Mage Asunder
by slyjinks
Summary: Neria Amell defeated the Archdemon, and saved all of Thedas. Trouble continues to follow her wherever she goes. Spoilers for DA:O and Awakening. Neria/Alistair, Neria/?
1. Chapter 1

Neria stood in the back of the crowd, picking invisible bits of lint off her robe. The ceremonial Circle robe felt suffocating after nearly two years in short, comfortable clothing. This new robe also hummed with unfamiliar wards, which felt equally choking. Neria did not trust clothing she had not enchanted herself, and this robe had come straight from the Circle. Neria suspected it of carrying tracking charms, and whispered her suspicions to the red-headed woman standing next to her.  
"You're just being paranoid, Neria. You are the Hero of Fereldan. They wouldn't dare!" said Leiliana lightly. "They look lovely on you, by the way. The red goes well with your complexion."  
_What complexion? _thought Neria sourly. Two years outdoors had done nothing for her stubbornly pale skin, except blight her nose with freckles.  
"And now, I'd like to introduce the woman who made everything possible. Neria Amell, would you please come forward?" asked Alistair.  
Neria avoided eye contact with him, instead fixing a smile on her face and bowing politely to those who cheered.  
"Thank you, your Majesty." said Neria, smoothly avoiding the hand he held out to her.  
"The Hero of Fereldan, who defeated the Archdemon, and saved us all. As new King of Fereldan, I offer you a boon." said Alistair, his eyes on her face.  
Neria swallowed heavily. Leiliana had warned her about this custom, and they had spoken at length about the possibilities. Neria had argued long and hard for the liberation of the Circle, but Leiliana had pointed out the Chantry's long history of ignoring royal decrees. In the end, Neria chose to help people to whom she felt very little connection, though she shared their ancestry.  
"I'd like the Alienages disbanded, and elves given equal rights under the law, your Majesty." said Neria, kneeling before Alistair.  
"Then consider it done!" said Alistair. He roughly grabbed her hand and pulled her up.  
"And quit all of this majesty crap." he whispered. "I don't want you bowing like that to me."  
"Too bad. You're King now." said Neria petulantly.

"I also appoint you Chancellor and Commander of the armies of Fereldan." said Alistair. Neria heard a gasp, and saw the Exhalted Mother frowning furiously.  
"Magic is meant to serve man, and never rule over him." she said angrily, interuppting the proceedings.  
Neria inclined her head to the woman. "She is right. I am content retaining my position as Warden Commander, your Majesty."  
The Exhalted Mother clapped her mouth shut, surprised. Neria could feel Alistair's glare, and she avoided his eyes.  
Neria excused herself, meeting with her friends and companions. She sharply felt Morrigan's absence, and wondered if she would ever see her dearest friend again. A sick part of her hoped she never would, that she would never have to see Morrigan with what she would never have, Alistair's child. Thinking of Alistair only brought pain, and she locked those thoughts away with the calm of a woman who had practiced mental discipline since she was a small child.  
"It is not too late, Neria. We can leave tonight, be in Antiva before the bastard prince knows you've left." said Zevran in her ear.  
Neria laughed lightly. "Oh, please. I'm already nearly an apostate. Alistair's influence is about the only thing keeping them from seizing me and dragging me back to the Circle."  
"You think too little of yourself. You are a hero! The people love you!" said Zevran.  
Neria looked around at the faces surrounding her, and saw that Zevran was correct. Most of the faces held something like awe and gratitude. Only a few were pinched, though whether it was because she was an elf or a mage, she could not tell.  
Neria heard the clink of familiar armored footsteps, and she tried to shrink behind Zevran.  
"Neria! I have been waiting to speak with you. You've been avoiding me." said Alistair, looking down at her.  
"I've been busy. You know, pesky archdemons and all that." said Neria.  
"Mm. So that's why, a month after the death of said darkspawn, you have ignored all invitations sent to you?" asked Alistair, crossing his arms over his chest.  
"Not all invitations. Just the ones you sent." said Neria.  
"Oh." said the King, for all his shiny new armor and expensive haircut, looking like the downtrodden, goofy Templar she had fallen in love with.  
Neria steeled herself. This was the same man who had, after she had exhausted every spell she knew to keep him and hand him the throne, had told her that the very skills that had ensured that he was alive, barred him from marrying her. She had been so naive, so very fucking stupid, thinking that love would overcome such glaring problems like the fact that he was a templar and she was a mage, that he was the king's son, and she a filthy elf from the Highever alienage. Despite this, she could not keep herself from hoping that he had come around, that he intended to tell all the stuffy nobles just where they could shove their outdated and racist opinions, and marry her anyway.  
"Can we just...talk?" asked Alistair.  
"Yes. But not here." said Neria, seeing the interested looks on the faces of the strangers around her.  
She followed Alistair to an empty room in the palace. He shut the door behind her, and then his hands were on her hips, pulling her to him. Alistair's familiar mouth found hers, and Neria's head swam, her heart singing.  
"I've missed you so much. I don't know what to do with all these people. None of them say what they mean." murmured Alistair, his mouth moving to her neck. "Damn them. I'll do what I please. I'm the King, right?"  
Neria gasped. Was this the Fade? She ran through a series of checks she had compiled, and this passed all of them.  
"I want you to live here." said Alistair. "I have rooms set up already."  
"What? Why wouldn't I be in your rooms?" asked Neria, pulling away.  
"Well, I don't think I can get away with that level of impropriety." laughed Alistair.  
"Why would it be improper, if.." started Neria, and then she realized what, exactly, he was proposing. Not marriage. No, he was asking her to be his mistress. She felt sick, then enraged.  
"You're no better than your father, you Maker-forsaken dog!" screamed Neria, her precious control slipping. Electricity crackled around her, and Alistair took a step back.  
"After everything I've given up for you, you'd ask me to give up my dignity, too? I thought you'd finally grown some balls, that you were going to ask me to marry you!" choked Neria.  
"Oh, Neria." said Alistair sadly. "The Landsmeet would never allow me to marry a-"  
"A _what, _Alistair? A devil-worshipping mage? A knife-ears?" asked Neria, advancing, grief and rage nearly bursting out of her. "Good enough to fuck, but not to marry? I could have accepted that we could never marry, could have eventually even been friends with you, if you hadn't done _this. _"  
"I wish I hadn't. I'm so sorry." said Alistair, his eyes wide and begging. "I didn't mean to insult you. I just missed you. I love you so much.  
_"Don't."_ snapped Neria. "You don't get to say that to me. Now, I'm leaving, and from now on, I expect you to act professionally, your Highness." She brushed past him, and felt his hand grasp her upper arm. The emotions rolling through her fractured the last hold she had on herself, and she ripped her arm away. Flames burst out along her arms and hands, throwing Alistair across the room.  
Guards pushed open the door, grabbing her by the arms.  
"No. Let her go." came Alistair's weak voice from the corner. Neria felt a flash of guilt, worrying that she had severely injured him. It took a lot of damage to make Alistair get up so slowly.  
_He deserved it. _Said Morrigan's voice in her mind, and she pushed the guilt away, holding on to her anger, instead.  
"But your Majesty, she attacked you!" argued one of the guards.  
"We were only sparring." said Alistair, leaning against the wall, a nasty burn running down the side of his face and neck.  
The guards looked from Neria's flushed face to Alistair's pale one, and nodded, though theirs eyes rested on Neria suspiciously.  
"Leave us." said Alistair, and the guards left. Neria turned to follow them.  
"No, wait. Please." said Alistair. "I didn't want it to go this way. If you never want to speak to me again, I understand. Just let me say this: I am grateful for everything you've done for me, Neria. Everything. And I won't forget it."  
Neria snarled, pointing a finger at him. "You forgot it pretty easily when that damned crown touched your head. Nevermind, Alistair. We're done. Goodbye."  
She heard him make a sad, forlorn sound deep in his throat, and it nearly broke her, nearly had her running back into his arms. But pride, the only thing left to her, would not allow it.  
"Thank you for fighting at my side all this time. You've been a good friend." said Neria quietly, the love she felt for the man in front of her forcing her to show compassion. She left, shutting the door, and walked directly to the stables.  
There, she found Zevran, holding out her pack. "I thought you might be needing this." he said.  
"How did you know?" she asked.  
"I have not travelled with you and the King for two years without learning to read you both." said Zevran. "It was fairly obvious what he intended on proposing. That, and the gossip from the servants who said that a mistress was soon going to take residence. I could not be sure if you would take the offer or not, though I suspected you wouldn't."  
"Thank you, Zev." said Neria. "Where are you going, after this?"  
"Wherever you want me to go, my lady." said Zevran, bowing and then grinning cheekily.  
"I could use a man with your skills accompanying me, at least until I reach Soldier's Peak." said Neria.  
"Then I am your man. Without reservation." said Zevran, and mounted the horse. He pulled Neria up behind him. "Plus, you are useless with horses. I don't even know what you hoped to do here, at the stables."  
"Perhaps seduce myself a stable boy." said Neria lightly, then laughed dryly. "You're right, I really wasn't thinking. I've never even ridden a horse before. I'm just sick of all this damned walking!"  
Zevran laughed. "Just hold on, and I'll get us there."

They reached Soldier's Peak a week later. Neria and Zevran stopped at every tavern along the way. Neria, both to drown her sorrows, and look for new recruits. Zevran, because he was never one to turn down a chance at a good time.  
At one tavern, Neria and Zevran were accosted outside by a group of ill-weaponed bandits.  
"Give us all your money!" shouted one, his young face white in terror, though he was the one holding the weapon.  
Zevran just laughed. Neria cocked her head, then looked at the group of teenagers.  
"Why are you doing this?" she asked. "You picked some very bad targets, by the way. I should tell you, I'm a Grey Warden."  
The one who had shouted fainted dead away.  
"She killed him without moving a muscle! Run! Run!" shouted a boy with entirely too many freckles, and they scattered quickly.

Neria kneeled next to the unconscious boy, and shook him awake. "What are you doing, trying to rob people?" she asked. "You obviously don't know how to hold that dagger, rusty piece of shit it is."  
"I. Well, the rest of them said if i joined them, I could feed my family. Mam died a month ago, and now it's just me and Lissie." said the boy.  
Zevran sighed, watching Neria's face soften in sympathy. Every stinking orphan in Fereldan seemed to find her, and they were the reason that Neria never had more than a sovereign ot her name.  
"Now they'll kill me! I failed!" wailed the boy, tears gathering in his eyes.  
"Not if you don't stay here." said Neria. "Do you have any skills?"  
"I can read and write." said the boy proudly.  
Neria grinned. "Avernus has been complaining about his lack of an assistant for some time." said Neria. "How would you like to come with me to Soldier's Peak and work for the Grey Wardens? We're always looking for scribes."  
"Really?" brightened the boy. "Oh, if you're a Grey Warden, does that mean you're...The Hero?" he asked, his eyes wide in awe.  
"Ugh, don't call me that." said Neria, and pulled him to his feet. "Now, let's collect your sister, shall we?"

They found his sister playing outside, swinging a butcher knife through the air. Zevran whistled. "For such a little thing, she isn't bad! Definitely more skilled than her brother."  
The brother, whom they found out was named Marcus, blushed.

That is how a journey that should have taken days ended up taking a week. They were greeted at the gate by Jowan. Jowan's conscription had been one of the happiest times of Neria's life. It had given her deep pleasure to take the mage right out of the hands of the Templar, and when he had survived the Joining, the guilt that had weighed on her for two years disappeared. It turned out, that when given responsibility, Jowan became quite capable.

Two months later, Neria found herself summoned to Vigil's Keep, the newest Grey Warden outpost. She left the Peak to Jowan, who teared up when she did.  
"Aww, don't do that, Jowan. I'm leaving an assassin here to keep you in line, you know." said Neria. Jowan smiled shakily.  
"I just don't know why you still trust me, after all this." he said.  
"Have you seen my robes? Mages aren't exactly known for their logic." said Neria, and grinned.  
Jowan laughed.  
"Don't get too lazy up here. I'll be sending recruits for training soon enough." said Neria to Zevran.  
"Me, lazy? Whatever gave you that idea?" asked Zevran.  
"Perhaps it is your habit of having Marcus bring you your lunch instead of fetching it yourself." said Neria.  
"The boy needs to earn his pay, I say." said Zevran, and then hugged her to him. "Stay safe, my friend."  
Neria hugged him back. "I've been out of trouble for exactly two months, now. I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop."  
"I should come with you." said Jowan and Zevran simultaneously.  
"Nonsense." said Neria. "I'm a big, scary mage. I can take care of myself. And if I can't, I have Snuggles, here." The Mabari woofed lightly, happy to hear his name.  
"Well, not big,maybe, but scary, definitely." said Jowan, and smiled.

Neria hear a horse clopping up the trail, and she squinted in the harsh sunlight, holding a hand to shield her eyes.  
The horse slowed, then whickered nervously. Horses never liked Neria. She suspected it was the magic that made them uneasy. The magic often had the same effect on people.  
"Warden-Commander!" said the rider, jumping off the horse smartly. "I am here to collect you."  
"And who might you be?" asked Neria pleasantly, though she was already planning her attack. Cone of frost, lightning bolt, maybe even flame blast, if this woman proved to be a templar.  
"I am Mhairi. I was sent to be your guide to Vigil's Keep. I'm one of the new recruits, though I've not yet taken my Joining." said Mhairi. Neria smiled at the woman's enthusiasm.  
"I was not expecting anyone." said Neria.  
"Oh, we weren't going to make the Commander walk!" said Mhairi, her voice faintly scandalized.  
"Alright then, but I'll have you know, I'm no good with horses." said Neria.  
"I heard." said Mhairi, and grinned, pushing back the dark hair falling into her eyes.

Neria found, over the next few days, some interesting facts about the young knight. Mhairi was actually six years older than her, which had shocked both of them. Mhairi loved dogs, espcially Mabari, and soon wheedled a promise out of Neria to have the pick of the first litter Snuggles sired. Mhairi also cherised the idea of becoming a Grey Warden, and talked endlessly about how much she idolized the order. Neria dearly hoped the knight would live through the Joining.

As they neared Vigil's Keep, Neria smelled smoke. She looked up, above the trees, and saw ominous, dark clouds.  
"Vigil's Keep is under attack!" said Mhairi. "Hold on, Commander!" She kicked the horse, and the horse gallopped forward, Neria holding on for dear life. Snuggles ran alongside them, streaking through the underbrush easily.  
Neria heard the familiar screams of darkspawn, and her stomach dropped. A coordinated darkspawn attack? But the Archdemon was dead! She had no time to wonder, as an arrow whistled over her head. She dropped off the back of the horse, pulling her staff off her back. Neria aimed it at the group of darkspawn, and felt the rush of magic flow through her hands. The group of them froze into place. Mhairi and Snuggles charged forward, cutting through the darkspawn. When one shattered into thousands of ice shards, Mhairi bellowed in delight. Neria grinned. She had worried that the seemingly-gentle Mhairi would not be suited for combat, but she was soon proven wrong. Mhairi was a very capable sword and shield warrior. Though she was not as good as Alistair in anticipating when Neria would need cover, with time, she would easily fill that role.  
"Where are all the Wardens?" asked Neria, lightning crackling from her hands, and then jumping from hurlock to hurlock, felling them.  
Mhairi gaped for a moment, then regained herself. "They were here when I left! This must be a surprise attack!"  
They fought their way to the gates, and it was a relief, to finally release some of her pent-up rage on the darkspawn. Neria saw a long, smeared trail of blood leading up stairs with a door at the top of them, and she took the stairs two at a time. She heard howling, and the smell of ozone and burning flesh filled the air. If an emissary was contained in this room, there was no better than Neria to deal with it. She kicked the door open, levelling her staff, her feet planted in battle stance. A burning genlock fell to the ground in front of her. A human mage stood across from it, flame bursting from his fingertips. He shook his hands, wincing at the heat, then saw her standing there.  
"I...uh. I didn't do it." he said.  
Neria crooked an eyebrow, wondering why a mage would not take credit for killing a darkspawn, and then she saw the three dead templars at his feet. She heard the sounds of battle resume outside the door.  
"I'm an apostate, but I didn't kill these Templars." said the mage.  
"Look, I don't care what you did or didn't do." said Neria.  
"Pretty and pragmatic. Quite a combination." said the mage admiringly. Neria rolled her eyes.  
"You coming with me, or not?" she asked.  
"I suppose I can... said the mage. Nowhere better to go."  
"Good." said Neria.

Neria and the apostate made their way toward the battlements, hearing Mhairi's loud battle cries. Mhairi turned slightly when they appeared.  
"About time you got here!" she shouted. Neria smiled, and then jumped into action. She pumped out spell after spell, relishing the feel of truly using her magic. Electricity, then flame, then ice. Neria had never been good at healing magic, and a complete failure at the shapeshifting magic Morrigan had tried to teach her, but elemental magic? Definitely her forte. The ground quaked under her, sending the darkspawn tumbling to their knees. Lightning arced down from the sky, dancing from hurlock to hurlock. Neria raised her hands to the sky, screaming out the incantations, oblivious to all but the power streaming through her. Arrows hit the ward that shimmered around her, falling, useless to the ground.  
When the last darkspawn fell, Neria leaned against her staff, barely still standing, panting.  
"Holy Andraste's pantaloons." said the other mage, looking at her with wide eyes. "You're her, aren't you?"  
"Who? Andraste? Have you seen these ears?" asked Neria, gasping for breath.  
"No. The Hero. I had heard the one who killed the archdemon was a mage, but I had no idea..." trailed the mage.  
"That I was a woman or an elf?" asked Neria, somewhat bitterly.  
"Not that. Little touchy, aren't you? I didn't know you were a primal mage. I've never seen anyone do what you just did."  
Neria smiled a little at that. "Oh? What's your school?"  
"Creation. Er. Healing." said the mage.  
Neria's smile widened. "Well, aren't I the lucky one? I'm shit at healing, and my healer left for greener grasses. What's your name, Mr. Apostate?"  
"It's Anders Amell, Miss Hero." said Anders, grinning crookedly.  
"Oh, please, don't call me that. Of all stupid names...I'm Neria Amell." said Neria, holding out her hand.  
"Wait, I recognize you! You were friends with Jowan!" said Anders.  
"You know him?" asked Neria, cocking her head.  
"Know him? I idolize him! He managed to destroy his phylactery, and escape from the Circle for good! Seven times, I've gotten away from that place, and six times, they've dragged me back." said Anders wryly.  
"Not a fan of the Circle, then?" asked Neria, her voice neutral.  
"I don't especially relish getting kicked in the head to wake up, no." said Anders.  
"Then we'll get along just fine." said Neria. "Best day of my life was the day I left the Tower."

"As fun as your reminiscing is, can we get a move-on? I don't got time to waste, listening to this skirt try to get into your skirt." said a loud, crude voice.  
"Oghren!" cried Neria, and rushed to the redheaded man, pulling him into a hug. "Ugh, you smell just the way you always did."  
"A dwarf who smells like a brewery. Now there's a surprise." said Anders sarcastically.  
"How did you get here, Oghren? I thought you were a commander in Fereldan's army?" she asked.  
"I was, 'til I decided bein' a Grey Warden would suit me better." said Oghren.  
"He's still here? Ugh, I thought the Grey Wardens would have kicked him out by now." said Mhairi, wiping her sword with a rag.  
"If it isn't the recruit with a great rack. Good to see you, too, darlin'" drawled Oghren.  
Neria rolled her eyes. "Shut up, Oghren."  
"Still feisty as ever. Ha-ha, I'm glad you haven't changed. Though what's this with this new guy havin' the same last name as you? You guys aren't siblings, are ya?" asked Oghren.  
Anders snorted. "Hardly. Amell is the default last name given to mages. Are you blind? Can't you see that she's an elf and I'm a human? How could we be siblings?"  
"Could be half-siblings." said Oghren stubbornly. "I don't know what you nasty mages get up to in your tower. Could be kin-fuckers."  
Neria laughed, and clapped a hand on Oghren's shoulder. "Well, my friend, we can continue this conversation later. Now, we have darkspawn to slay."

Neria slumped against a stack of firewood, which, ironically, was about the only wood not currenly on fire in the Keep. She was throughly spent, and felt the nausea that accompanied over-taxing her magic. She gingerly touched her lip, which was split and swelling. The spectacle of a talking darkspawn had made her forget her caution for just a moment, which had been long enough for a hurlock to make it through her shields and knock her in the face with his mace. Mhairi had seen it, and bashed the hurlock to the ground before it could do too much damage, thankfully.  
Anders approached, his robes spotless. Neria rolled her eyes, holding a chunk of ice against her lip. Why was it that apostates were so picky about their appearances? Morrigan had been the same way. Worry niggled at Neria, though she knew she shouldn't be too afraid. Morrigan was perfectly capable of taking care of herself.  
"Well, I've helped you, so I'll just be buggering off, then." said Anders.  
"Of course." said Neria, smiling, then wincing.  
"Let me take care of that for you." said Anders, and put a finger against her lip. He murmured a few words, and the pain disappeared. "What kind of mage are you, can't even heal a little scratch."  
"One who could light you on fire from thirty paces." said Neria, glaring.  
"You're welcome, by the way." said Anders. "Anyway, I'll be going, now. If any Templars come looking, tell them I went the other way."  
"How about I just tell them you're dead?" asked Neria. Ander's face split into a wide smile.  
"That would be most appreciated." he said, and then he was gone. Neria felt a pang of regret. He would have been a useful addition to the Wardens. She hadn't yet seen one living Warden. It seemed that once again, she was the sole surviving warden of a massacre.  
She heard the jingle of harnesses, and looked up. Oh, of all times for deja vu! The King swung himself off his horse, and came rushing toward her.  
"Neria? Is that you? Oh, thank the Maker! You're alive!" said Alistair, picking her up. Neria managed a weak zap, and he dropped her abruptly.  
"Sorry." he said. "Wow, you must really be tired, if that's the best you can do."  
"Fighting off an entire Keep swarming with darkspawn tends to take a little out of me." said Neria. "Don't tell my fans. I don't think my reputation could survive."  
Alistair laughed, and for a moment, it was as it had always been. Neria and Alistair, friends and warriors, laughing through the worst of situations. Neria caught a glimpse of his golden armor, and scowled. Except now Alistair was King, and she was still a mage, and an elf.  
Alistair caught her change of expression, and answered her frown. "Hey, don't do that. Can't we just be friends? What happened here?"  
"I know about as much as you do. I arrived earlier today, to the keep overrun with darkspawn. It was a coordinated attack, according to the few surviving soldiers. No Wardens survived, apparently." said Neria coolly.  
"But how could that be? The Archdemon is dead. They shouldn't be capable of attacks like this." said Alistair.  
"It gets worse. I met a talking darkspawn." said Neria.  
"What?!" asked Alistair. "Oh, Maker."  
"Something awful is going on, and I intend to stop it." said Neria firmly.  
"You know, I kind of miss the whole darkspawn-killing thing." said Alistair hopefully.  
"No." said Neria. "You're King, now. You can't be out here, risking your neck."  
"And jsut who is going to protect yours? You aren't exactly, well, cautious in battle." said Alistair.  
"What am I, chopped nug-liver?" boomed Oghren, walking out from behind some rubble.  
"Oghren?" asked Alistair.  
Mhairi followed Oghren, and Neria pulled her over. She then realized just who was standing in front of her, and dropped to a knee. Neria pulled at Mairi, and glared at Oghren, who stubbornly stood.  
"I'm a dwarf. He ain't my soddin' King." said Oghren.  
"My King!" said Mhairi.  
"Get up, get up!" sighed Alistair.  
"This is Mhairi. She is a very able shield and sword type, just like you. She'll be replacing you." said Neria.  
Alistair's eyes flicked over the woman, and he ran a hand through his hair. "Fine. I know I can depend on you to do this, Neria. I'm sorry you have to do it alone."  
"I won't be alone." said Neria. "Speaking of alone, why do you only have one guard with you?"  
Alistair looked behind him. "I came here with seven. Six of them were templars, and started muttering something about apostates when we arrived. I came as soon as I heard you left for Vigil's Keep. I wanted to give you a royal welcome, but I guess you got here first."  
Neria paled at the mention of apostates, and hoped that Anders had gotten away. She heard shouting, and saw templars marching toward her.  
"I told you already! I didn't do it!" shouted Anders, dragging his feet.  
"Shut up! Murderer!" said one of the templars angrily.  
"Your majesty, this man is a dangerous criminal. He must be returned to the Chantry for justice!" said the female tmeplar in commander armor.  
"I'll just escape again." said Anders.  
"Not this time! I'll see you hanged for what you did!" said the woman, giving Anders a shake.  
"Well, I guess that's it, then. Unless you have something to add, Commander..." said Alistair, his eyes meeting Neria's. Then, he winked, and Neria covered her mouth to keep him from seeing her smile.  
"I hereby invoke the Right of Conscription." said Neria. "Anders Amell, you are now a Grey Warden."  
"What? You can't do this!" said the templar commander angrily.  
"Unless I am mistaken, the Wardens still possess the Right of Conscription, no?" asked Alistair, his voice dropping dangerously. The templar gulped, then nodded.  
"Yes, Your Majesty." she said meekly, and roughly pushed Anders forward. He stumbled, and Neria caught him.  
"Well, I should get back. The Bannorn needs to hear of this." said Alistair.  
"Goodbye, Your Highness." said Neria, and pounded her chest in a salute. Alistair returned it, his eyes sad. 


	2. Chapter 2

Neria wanted to collapse, watching Alistair mount the horse and ride away without a backwards glance. She shook her head. No, it was fatigue that made her want to fall to the ground, right? She smelled Oghren approaching, and wrinkled her nose, as she realized he was the only person she knew that she could identify from across the room, by scent alone. Stench would really be a more accurate word.

"Nug-humper." grunted Oghren.

"That's the King you're talking about!" said Mhairi, scandalized.

"Ain't my King. Anyhow, I knew him before he was King." said Oghren. "Forget him, Neria. He ain't worth one more look."

Neria frowned. "I wasn't looking. I'm beyond all that."

"Sure." said Oghren. "Just like I'm beyond Branka. If you want a drink, I'll be by the cask."

Neria rolled her eyes, then followed him, her pace slow.

Seneschal Varel met them in the doorway to the Keep.

"Commander, we should do this as soon as possible." he said.

"Do what?" asked Neria, hoping desperately he would suggest a nap, or at least a good long soak in a tub full of lyrium potions.

"The Joining. As far as I know, there is but one Grey Warden in all of Fereldan. That needs to be rectified."

"Two Grey Wardens. Don't forget about the King." said Neria.

Varel let out a short laugh. "Regardless, we should get this over with as soon as possible."

Neria eyed him. "Do I look like I'm in any condition to oversee a Joining? Ask me about it tomorrow."

The Seneschal began to protest, but Neria ignored him. Many, many years of ignoring mentors and templars alike had given her the unique ability to block out anything she did not want to hear. She walked up the staircase, avoiding the bodies strewn in the hallway. Mhairi followed her, nearly tripping over her. Neria whirled.

"What, Mhairi?" she asked.

"You're just going to sleep, with all this?" asked Mhairi, gesturing.

"You've slept in worse." said Neria. "You were in the war."

Mhairi nodded, her blue eyes suddenly flinty. "Of course."

Neria resumed her slow walk down the hall, and heard Mhairi, still following.

"Planning on crawling into bed with me?" asked Neria, crooking an eyebrow. The knight flushed. Oghren somehow heard the comment, and bellowed up the staircase.

"Need a filling for that sandwich?"

Neria heard Anders's wild cackle, and she rolled her eyes. Wherever she went, she attracted utter misfits and morons. She turned to the woman in front of her, who was currently studying the bloodstains on the rug.

"Look, Mhairi, I was only joking. You are welcome to have the other bed in my chambers, if you are worried about your Joining. Otherwise, pick out a room, and it's yours." said Neria.

"I'm more worried about ghosts, to be honest." mumbled Mhairi.

"Ghosts?" asked Neria.

"Roland. He was with me my whole life. We grew up on the same street." said Mhairi. "Now, I'm going to go through the Joining alone, and I don't know what to do." The knight rubbed at her eyes fiercely.

"Hey, you won't be alone. Anders and Oghren will go through it at the same time." said Neria, reaching up to pat the woman on the back.

"Those idiots? I think I'd rather be alone, honestly." said Mhairi wryly. Neria laughed.

"Come on, I'll get you a hot bath." said Neria. "It'll make you feel better."

"A-a bath?" asked Mhairi. "No, ser. I can't have you hauling all that water."

"I'm a mage, remember?" said Neria, and grinned.

"But you're so tired." protested Mhairi, though Neria had seen the knight brighten at mention of a bath.

"Not too tired for a little water." said Neria. She opened the door at the end of the hall. The Peak was arranged in a similar fashion to the Tower, and the best room was predictably at the outermost left corner. She walked through, pleased to find the room devoid of corpses. Neria clapped her hands, and steaming water filled the bathtub in the center of the room. Mhairi's eyes widened.

"See? Nothing to it." said Neria. "I'll see you tomorrow, Mhairi."

"Thank you, Commander." said Mhairi. Neria smiled, and then left the room. She bumped into Anders on her way out.

"What? Do you want a bath, too?" asked Neria.

"Ooo, are you offering to wash me?" asked Anders, grinning.

Neria laughed. "You wish. What do you want?"

"Are you planning on taking an apprentice, with your advanced age?" asked Anders, eyeing door through which Mhairi soaked. The look on his face clearly suggested that he thought Neria was coddling the knight.

"Oh, you mean by being nice to a friend?" asked Neria. "I'm younger than she is, actually. Probably younger than you, too."

"I doubt that." said Anders. "I'm twenty-four."

Neria laughed. "I just turned twenty." She laughed even harder at Anders's eyes, which were nearly bugging out of his face.

"So you were only seventeen when you joined the Grey Wardens?" asked Anders incredulously.

"Yes." said Neria. "Joined the Wardens only a few days after passing my Harrowing. I wish I could have had more time, but ah well."

"More time at the Circle? I thought you were glad to get out?" asked Anders.

"Oh, not more time at the Circle. Just more time here, alive." said Neria. "I should tell you this now. I was terribly angry when I found out, and I'm guessing you will be, too."

"What?" asked Anders. "You're going to take some of my blood, then track me with it? Oh wait..."

"You only have thirty years to live, after the Joining." said Neria.

Anders cocked his head. "That's not as bad as I was expecting."

"What?" asked Neria.

"Well, the life expectancy for apostates isn't too long, you know." said Anders. "Signing up with the Grey Wardens probably extended it by decades."

Neria shrugged. "When you put it that way, I guess it isn't so bad. At the Circle, I probably would have pulled an Uldred."

Anders snorted, then saw her barely-concealed smirk, and laughed. "You're sick."

"I'm not the one making jokes about dead Templars before their bodies have even cooled." said Neria. She swayed, fatigue pulling at her. "As much as I enjoy talking with a fellow mage, I have to take my leave. I'm beat."

Anders nodded.

Neria slept through the night without nightmares. After the Archdemon's death, she had found herself once again returning to pleasant dreams. As a mage, she had learned to manipulate the Fade from a young age, and thus, her dreams were usually quite nice.

Neria heard a loud knock at her door. She quickly pulled a robe over her head, and padded over to the door. Oghren stood there, his eyes wild.

"We gotta do it now, Neria." he said.

"Do what? Maker, Oghren, what time is it? Is the sun even up yet?" she asked groggily. "If you're propositioning me, I swear, I'll light your balls on fire."

"Sun's been up for hours!" snapped Oghren. "The Joining, you daft girl! The wait is killin' me!"

"We can't do the Joining until nightfall." said Neria.

"Why not?" asked Oghren.

"It's tradition." said Neria, fumbling for want of a better answer.

"Everyone knows you can't join secret societies in broad daylight. It just isn't done." drawled Anders, who was sprawled in a chair next to the window, a book in his hands.

Oghren glared at Anders and then stomped down the hall, grumbling.

"He has been pacing all morning." said Mhairi, poking her head out of her doorway. "I could hear him, farting and swearing."

"That sounds like Oghren." said Neria. "Well, I need to deal with...stuff. Come find me at nightfall."

The day went quickly. Cleanup of the bodies was facilitated by the soldiers pouring in from Amaranthine. Neria suspected Alistair of lighting the fire under their arses, and was grateful. The prospect of cleaning up the Keep by herself was not a pleasant one. Neria ate an apple from her lunch, pouring over the document in front of her, which detailed the Joining. She had already done it once before, for Jowan, but she was an obsessive preparer. Sunlight glinted down through the leaves of the tree she sat beneath, and she closed her eyes in pleasure. Time outdoors at the Circle had been rare, and precious. Even weeding the herb gardens had been a treasured task, for it meant feeling the wind on her face, smells other than old books and dust in her nose. Though she had spent much of the past two years outdoors, Neria still relished it. In her more fanciful moments, she liked to imagine it was because she was actually a Dalish elf, torn away from a family and clan who had forever mourned her loss. Her vague memories of cobblestone streets and a redheaded woman with rough, patched clothing told her these fantasies were probably not true.

Neria awakened to the smell of smoke and meat cooking. Startled, she got to her feet. She must have dozed in the warm sun. She looked around, and saw the sun was just about gone behind the trees. The smoke came from a fire nearby, and Neria winced when she realized it was not meat she smelled cooking, but bodies. She hurried back into the Keep, vaguely unsettled. She headed into the room off the side of the main hall, unlocking it and gathering the supplies needed for the Joining.

When she appeared, she saw the three new recruits nervously looking at one another, and at Varel. When they saw her, Anders and Oghren burst into laughter. Mhairi had the good grace not to laugh outright, but Neria saw the knight's mouth twitching.

"What?" she asked.

"You look like a roasted nug." said Oghren.

"I'm not sure I want to join an organization that counts a lobster as one of its leaders." said Anders. "Or would it be crayfish? You're rather too small for a proper lobster." he mused.

Neria reached up a hand to her face, and winced at the contact. Curse her pale skin! Why couldn't she be like Zevran, tanning easily in the sun? She felt her face again, gingerly. It was going to peel, and then she would really look ridiculous.

Neria sighed. "Har har." she said. "Is everyone ready?"

The three faces lost their grins. Neria watched Anders's face pale, and Mhairi rock slowly from foot to foot.

"I'm only going to say a few words, but these words have been spoken since the beginning." said Neria. "Join us, brothers and sisters. Join us in the shadows where we stand vigilant. Join us as we carry the duty that cannot be forsworn. And should you perish, know that your sacrifice will not be forgotten... and that one day, we shall join you. Oghren, from this day forward, you are a Grey Warden."

"What's this? The child's size? Oh, gimme the damn cup." said Oghren, and gulped the contents down. Neria watched his face intently, hoping he would survive. For all his crudeness and sometimes, belligerence, Oghren was one of her dearest, most loyal friends, and it would be very painful to see him die.

A loud belch blew back the hair in her face, and Neria let out a surprised laugh. Oghren smacked his lips.

"Not bad, not bad." he said.

Neria saw Anders gaping at Oghren, and Mhairi frowning at the dwarf's irreverence.

"Welcome, Oghren." said Neria solemnly. She turned, and refilled the cup.

"Anders Amell, from this day forward, you are a Grey Warden."

"Aww, I have to drink out of the same cup as him? Awfully unsanitary." said Anders. He caught a glimpse of the contents, and his face paled. "We have to drink darkspawn blood?" he asked, his voice strangled.

"Yes." said Neria. She hoped he would not try something stupid, like an escape attempt, because she did not relish chasing him down and executing him.

"Well, alright then." said Anders, and took the cup. He looked down into it for a moment, then closed his eyes tightly. Neria watched his throat work as he swallowed. He shuddered, and then stiffened, his eyes rolling back into his head. Anders crumpled to the ground. Neria rushed over to him, hoping to feel a pulse. She did, strong and steady. His eyelids fluttered, and he looked up.

"Welcome, Anders." said Neria, and held out a hand to help him up. She refilled the cup for the final time, and moved to Mhairi, whose face was now confident.

"Mhairi Bearnson, from this day forward, you are a Grey Warden." said Neria.

"I've waited for this day for so long." said the knight, her blue eyes shining. She took the cup and drank.

Neria watched as the woman shuddered, her face contorting. Mhairi fell to her knees, clutching at her throat. Neria winced, forcing herself to watch. Images of Daveth flashed in front of her.

"I am sorry, Mhairi." whispered Neria, bending down to close the dead woman's eyes, which were open, horrified and staring.

"She...died?" asked Anders.

"Yes." said Neria. "We will build a pyre, and send her off properly."

Anders and Oghren accompanied her to the nearby forest. Oghren chopped down saplings, while Anders stripped them of branches. Neria was surprised to see how easily Anders wielded an ax. She helped them carry the poles back, and they set about building a pyre. Anders carried Mhairi's body out to the pyre, shrugging off Oghren's offers of help.

"It's the least I can do. Really." said Anders, his face the most solemn Neria had ever seen it. Anders stepped away from the pyre. Neria lifted her arms heavenward, and cried out with all the grief and guilt she felt over Mhairi's death. One of the nice things about being a mage was the ability to turn unpleasant emotions into raw power.

A column of fire lit the pyre, the blast from the heat knocking Anders and Oghren back. Neria took a step back, and watched the pyre blaze, higher than any pyre she had seen. She felt Anders's gaze, and she turned to see his eyebrows lifted.

Oghren lifted something out of his pack, and handed glasses to Neria and Anders.

"Glasses? How civilized." said Neria.

"Figured Mhairi deserves as nice of a send-off as we can give 'er. She was a damned fine warrior." said Oghren gruffly, and pulled a bottle from his pack. Neria squinted at the label.

"It's the good stuff." said Oghren, and poured a glass for each of them. Neria knocked it back and held out her glass for more. After another glass, she felt her head beginning to go fuzzy. She sat down next to the pyre. Watching it burn, she wondered if Mhairi had joined her beloved Roland. Neria wasn't sure if the Maker existed, but she knew for certain that the Fade did, and took comfort in that. She heard Oghren sit heavily next to her, and saw him refill her glass. Neria drank it quickly, hoping it would dull the ache in her chest. For all the death she had witnessed, it never got any easier. Wasn't it supposed to get easier?

Neria watched until the fire burned out, then stood shakily. Anders and Oghren stood at the same time, neither in better shape than she was. They all stumbled back into the Keep, leaning on one another, swaying back and forth. Neria threw an arm around Anders's waist, and the other across Oghren's shoulders.

Somehow, she found her way to her room and fell onto her bed.


	3. Chapter 3

When she awakened, it was still dark outside. Neria stretched, then put a slender finger on each of the temples, trying to summon enough concentration to will the pain away. It didn't work. She cursed feebly, and changed into a new robe. The armory had been left untouched by the darkspawn, and Neria had found several new robes within. The newest one was a happy medium between the skimpy tevinter robes and the stuffy Circle ones. It covered all of her important bits, without restraining her overly. Best of all, though, was that the robe was free of enchantments, though of sufficient quality to allow the placement of enchantments. If it was a rather garish shade of purple, well, perhaps Anders knew a color-changing spell.

She tripped over the man sitting outside her door, his head resting on his knees.

"Fuck!" he swore, rubbing his shoulder. "Did you have to try to stomp me to bits?"

"What are you even doing out here?" asked Neria furiously.

"I don't know! I woke up here!" said Anders angrily.

Neria winced at his loud voice, rubbing the bridge of her nose. "Could you lower your voice, please? Ugh, my head." she said.

"Oh, little miss fury-from-the-heavens can't even banish an itty-bitty headache?" mocked Anders.

"I should puke on you. I really should." said Neria. "If only it wasn't so much trouble."

Anders stood, irritatingly perky.

"What will you give me, if I get rid of your entirely self-inflicted headache?" he asked. "A kiss, perhaps? Maybe that bath you promised me?"

"You should be more worried about what I won't give you. A lightning bolt to the gonads, maybe a good, stone fist to the midsection." growled Neria.

"Fine, fine!" grumbled Anders, and walked over to her. He put a hand on either side of her head and chanted. The throbbing pain behind her eyes disappeared, and she closed her eyes in relief.

"Thank you, Anders." she said.

Later that day, Neria could not believe what she was hearing. The only surviving son of Arl Rendon Howe was standing in front of her, his tone changing from belligerent, to guilty, to threatening.

She was not sure that what she was planning was the most logical route she could take, but then again, Neria's routes were rarely logical. Part of being a good primal mage was a rather laissez-faire attitude toward the natural order of things, and Neria wasn't just good. She was phenomenal.

"I conscript this man, Nathaniel Howe, into the Grey Wardens." said Neria.

The guard, whose life she had saved a few days before, scowled at Nathaniel. "Are you sure about that, my lady? This man is a Howe, and Howes are implacable enemies."

"You can't do this!" railed Nathaniel, rattling the bars of his cell. "I'd rather hang!"

"Did I at any time suggest you had a choice?" asked Neria, grinning wickedly. "I rather think I did not."

Nathaniel glared, his grey eyes boring into her. "Do you really want an enemy in the Grey Wardens?"

"Eh, at least then I'll be able to keep an eye on you." said Neria casually. She took the key from the guard and unlocked Nathaniel's cell. To his credit, Nathaniel did not try to bolt, or even attack her, like she half-expected. Instead, his shoulders just sort of slumped, and he followed her out of the dungeon.

"So you're a mage, then?" he asked, his voice gravelly.

"Did my big boom-stick give me away?" asked Neria sarcastically.

"No, your ugly clothing did." said Nathaniel.

Neria laughed, surprised at his boldness. "Why, you look to be the very picture of sartorial sense, yourself." she said. "I heard it took four Grey Wardens to bring you in. How, exactly, did you fight them?"

"Bow, mostly." said Nathaniel. "I mean, I can use a blade, but it's not my best skill..."

"What else can you do?" asked Neria.

"Pick locks, pick pockets, poison nosy mages." said Nathaniel.

"Want to know what I'm good at?" asked Neria suddenly.

"Not really." said Nathaniel.

"Lighting stuff on fire." said Neria, and suddenly screamed, arching her back. A pile of broken fence blazed skyward. Nathaniel jumped back, his face losing its color.

"So yeah, I'd think again about the whole poisoning-mages thing." said Neria casually.

Anders crossed his arms, glaring at Nathaniel.

"Now, we're recruiting people who want to kill you?" he asked.

"I'm a mage! When are people not trying to kill me? I need to keep my skills sharp." joked Neria. "Never know when the Templars might start getting itchy."

Oghren looked at Nathaniel. "So you're Rendon Howe's little blighter, huh?"

"That's one way to put it." said Nathaniel.

"You got some stones, comin' back here. Fergus Cousland said you'd never show your tail again. Rushing into battle, careless of danger. That's the only way to live. Old Oghren's got your back, kid." said Oghren, slapping Nathaniel on the back. Nathaniel stumbled forward.

"Am I the only one who sees how utterly stupid this is?" asked Anders. The other two wardens ignored him.

"Apparently." he said, and stomped off to the courtyard.

Neria went out to her favorite tree, her lunch and a book in her hands. She had a few hours until she had to meet with the area nobles, and needed to bolster a good mood before then. It would not do to burn them all to a crisp, however much she wanted to.

She sat down under the tree, and flipped forward in her book. Zevran must have hidden the book in her pack before she left. The Rose of Orlais was his kind of literature: fast-paced, and full of equal parts sex and murder. Neria was just getting to a really good part when the branches above her shook, and a crabapple dropped onto her head.

"Ouch! Fucking squirrels." she muttered, and absently shot a bolt of lightning up into the tree. A very unsquirrel-like yelp came from the tree, and a body came crashing down, narrowly missing Neria.

Anders just laid there for about a minute, gasping.

Neria stared, and then began giggling. "What the hell were you doing up there?" she asked.

"I was gathering crabapples. It's a crabapple tree, after all." said Anders angrily. "Where do you get off, zapping innocent bystanders like that? I should report you to the Templars!"

Neria snorted. "I'd like to see them try to take me. Why do you want crabapples, anyway?"

"To make the healing potions taste better. I need the ones from the very top of the tree, though. They get much sweeter." said Anders, who still hadn't gotten up.

"Look, I'm sorry about zapping you. What kind of creep hangs out in trees, anyway?" demanded Neria.

"The same kind of creep who is responsible for all the healing potions you drink! Plus, I need to build up my 'I'm a crazy apostate mage' image, now that I am officially free of the Circle." said Anders.

Neria laughed, watching as Anders sat up. He rubbed the dirt off his face, muttering about getting his robes dirty. She watched him stomp away, and snickered at his discombobulation. He reminded her of a mix between Alistair and Morrigan.

_Almost as if they had a child. Oh wait..._

Neria frowned. She did not want to think on Alistair, or Morrigan, and especially not on them together.

Her afternoon break had passed all too quickly, and her head soon pounded, listening to the nobles. She suddenly was very glad she hadn't become Queen. It would have meant endless days of solving the problems of petty, spoiled humans. Ugh.

When she had taken their oaths, she went to find Nathaniel. It had been a long day, and now, she needed to have another Joining. She wouldn't put it past a Howe to run away from duty, and thus, had been keeping a short leash on the man.

During the Joining, Neria happened to glance at Anders. She saw him watching Nathaniel intently, and her gaze dropped to Anders's hands. His fingers were crossed, on both hands.

Nathaniel lived through the Joining, which was a relief. Neria didn't exactly love the man, but she didn't wish him to die, either. If she wanted that, she could have easily had him hung.

She caught Anders on his way out the door.

"I saw you crossing your fingers at the Joining. That's so sweet that you were hoping he'd live." said Neria, smiling. "I'm happy you've come around."

Anders snorted. "Are you kidding me? I lost two sovereigns to Oghren over this! I was hoping the knicker-weasel would drop dead!"

Neria gasped, then slugged Anders in the shoulder. "Anders! Don't you dare speak like that! Nathaniel is your brother now."

"Ouch! You pack quite a punch, for a woman. And a mage. And an elf. How _do _you punch like that?" asked Anders, rubbing his arm.

"Slaying the Archdemon was great for my upper-body strength."said Neria dryly.

Anders lifted his eyebrows. "Rather extreme way to body-build."

"I'd do anything for more strength." said Neria. "Haven't you heard the rumors? I'm power-mad! Muahahaha!"

A few days later, after working diligently to finish the rest of the cleaning and urgent repairs to the Keep, Neria finally had time to address the whole problem of where, exactly, the darkspawn had attacked from. The workmen cleared out a small tunnel through the rubble. Neria climbed through it easily, as did Oghren and Anders. Nathaniel eyed it warily.

"Oh, come on, you big coward." said Neria. "It's just a little crawling."

"Through a tiny, shoddy tunnel." said Nathaniel, and sighed. "Well, never let it be said that a mage was braver than I."

He crawled through, to sarcastic applause from Neria and Anders. Nathaniel looked around.

"I recognize it down here. It's been many years since I've been here, but yeah, I think I know where we're headed."

"Well, lead on." said Neria, gesturing.

Along the way, she picked up anything that looked valuable, and stuffed it into her pack. Years of living by the skin of her teeth had made Neria into something of an opportunist.

_And a packrat. _Said Morrigan's voice in her head, as she placed a cracked bow into her bag.

Neria shrugged to herself. She saw Oghren giving her a strange look.

"Talking to the voices in my head." she said.

"Ah! I know just what you mean. I got one who sounds like Branka. That one nevers shuts up unless I drown her." said Oghren.

As they journeyed further into the dungeon, Neria felt more and more unsettled. It was beginning to resemble the dungeon of Fort Drakon a bit too much for her taste. What had happened to her there...well, it was the reason she now wore robes which covered every inch of her back.

Nathaniel hissed as the pushed open a door. This was obviously a room used for torturing prisoners. A bloody rack stood pushed up against the far wall, and the other walls were lined with various horrific devices. Air rushed out of the room, and Neria nearly doubled over from the stench. The smell of human excrement, mixed with dried blood and the sharp stink of fear, rushed over her. She heard Anders retching, and saw Nathaniel freeze.

"There's people still alive in here." said Oghren suddenly. "Look."

Nathaniel and Neria rushed over to a cage in the back. Two men sat feebly against a wall, a dead woman lying between them. Nathaniel hurriedly picked the lock, and Neria crouched next to one of the men. He had barely enough energy to move his head to look at them. Neria pulled her waterskin off her belt and held it to his dry, cracked lips. He gulped at it.

Anders appeared, his normally ruddy cheeks now a sickly green. "Here, let me help them. Go get the soldiers to carry them out."

Neria nodded and hurried back up the stairs, to the entrance tunnel.

"We have survivors! Guards!" she shouted. The guards hurried through.

Neria returned to her group, and their faces were grim. Even Oghren was solemn.

"Let's continue." said Neria.

"Do you think they'll live?" asked Nathaniel.

"Maybe." said Anders. "I did what I could. "

Nathaniel's shoulders slumped. "I can't believe all of this. This equipment....these...monstrosities were never here when I lived here. How could my father have done this?"

"Maybe he wasn't who you thought he was." said Neria.

"There must be some explanation." said Nathaniel. "It was war. Perhaps he had to take measures."

Neria saw Anders stiffen. "No. There is never, never an excuse for torture." said Anders, his voice rough and angry.

Neria wondered if Anders had experienced torture, before. The mage made light of his many escapes and captures, but Neria knew what the Templars were capable of.

Neria heard a pitiful whine, and immediately looked around for her dog. No, that was ridiculous, Snuggles was safely up in the courtyard, chasing squirrels. She looked ahead, and saw a slumped Mabari. Neria ran forward. The poor dog couldn't even manage a growl. It was battered and beaten, blood covering its proud muzzle and head.

"Anders!" shouted Neria.

Anders ran ahead. "Look at this poor guy." said Anders softly, and crouched. "There's not much I can do for him, I don't think. Maybe put him out of his misery?"

Neria nodded, and reached for a knife on her belt. She was taking the dog's head into her hands when she felt a scrap of parchment, tucked under its collar. She pulled at it.

"I am Lady Nerida. I have taken refuge in the deepest part of the dungeon. Please, anyone who reads this...HELP!" read Neria.

"Nerida? She was like a mother to me! We have to help her!" said Nathaniel frantically.

Neria set the note aside, and drew her blade across the dog's throat. She stood, and opened the door to the cellar.

"Stop." said Anders, holding up a hand. "Do you hear that? It sounds like someone is shuffling around down there."

"That's good! Maybe she's still alive." said Neria. She wondered how the woman could still be moving, stuck down there for over a week, with no food or water. Maybe she had taken supplies with her?

"Let me scout on ahead." said Nathaniel. He pressed himself against the wall, and then, was gone.

Anders took a sharp breath, surprised.

"He's just blending." said Neria. "It's some sort of technique that certain people can learn. It's almost like magic; you either have the innate ability, or not. I do not, unfortunately."

Anders nodded.

Nathaniel reappeared, his face drawn. "They're down there." he said.

"That's great news!" said Neria.

"They're not human, anymore." said Nathaniel. "They're sick. No, worse than sick. I saw one eating a human corpse."

Neria was reminded suddenly of Branka, of the horrible truth of what the Paragon had done, in order to create a Broodmother. She glanced over at Oghren, whose face clearly showed that he was thinking the same thing.

"Well, we can't just leave them down there." said Neria, and steeled herself. "Nathaniel, provide some cover, please. Oghren, well, you know what to do. Anders, try to keep us from dying."

Neria walked out ahead, murmuring the shielding incantations as she walked. She felt the familiar buzzing in her veins that signalled darkspawn were near, and realized what Nerida and her companions had turned into. Ghouls, twisted beings who had been tainted by the darkspawn, and were slowly becoming them.

Neria caught sight of one, and then saw the large group in the corner, huddled over something. She saw the corpse, and took a deep, steadying breath. The two months at Soldiers' Peak had been a welcome respite from the horrors she had seen in her two years walking around Fereldan. But, those two months were over, and she was thrust back into a gauntlet of new and ever sickening tests to break her sanity.

Neria sprinted forward, coming to a stop only a few feet from the group of ghouls. She planted her feet, the motions familiar and mindless for her. Cold blasted from the end of her staff, freezing the ghouls. Oghren raced up, his axe swinging in a wide arc. Neria summoned watermelon-sized rocks, which crashed into the ghouls, knocking them to the ground. Arrows flew past her on either side, and Neria thought about how easy it would be for Nathaniel to kill her, and pretend it was accidental. She pushed that thought out of her mind, and instead concentrated on the movements required for lightning.

"Cover me, Oghren!" shouted Neria. She dearly missed having a shield warrior. Fighting like this made her feel uneasy, and exposed. Oghren stood in front of her, his bulk somewhat easing her mind. She closed her eyes, concentrating on lightning, swaying as she chanted. She absorbed the kickback of her staff as electricity coursed out the end. Lightning bounced from ghoul to ghoul, causing their white, sightless eyes to bleed, and what little hair they had left to burst into flames. Four of the ghouls fell. Two more to go, one of whom seemed to be Lady Nerida herself, judging by the fine silk dress it was wearing.

Nerida charged toward Neria. Neria sprang back, then screamed gutturally, holding out her free hand. A ball of fire exploded from her hand, knocking the ghoul back, into the dirty stone wall. The ghoul screeched in outrage, and got up, dashing toward Neria. Neria feinted to the side, surprised at the ghoul's agility. The ghoul advanced, then choked, falling to its knees, an arrow deep in its throat. Neria turned, and nodded at Nathaniel.

"That's the last of 'em." said Oghren.

Neria looked down at the ghouls, and grimaced.

"We'll get the guards to carry them out." she said.

"I'll take Nerida." said Nathaniel, and he crouched, picking up the dead woman.

Later that night, more pyres were built. The dead of the Keep were honored in a large, mass funeral. It had been postponed to give enough time for family members to make the journey from Amaranthine.


	4. Chapter 4

Neria slouched in the throne. It was terribly uncomfortable. Not so much from any design flaw, moreso because she hated having the eyes of twenty-odd nobles on her. Eyes which clearly held questions, or even open disdain, for her position.

_You don't belong there, elf. _

_ You don't belong there, mage. _

Part of her wanted to shove her status in their faces, to force them to address her as "Arlessa," but she knew how to be diplomatic. It was already a bitter pill for them to swallow, with two elves now considered nobility, forcing them to acknowledge it daily would be a bit too much. Neria thought of Shianni's brash, in-your-face style of debating politics, and grinned. If anyone was up to the job of telling the nobles where they could stick it, it was Shianni.

Neria considered letting Varel handle all the Keep's diplomatic functions, but she did not know the man well enough yet, and suspected he might be a strict by-the-book type. Some of Neria's best decisions had been distinctly against-the-book. She thought of Morrigan, and Alistair, and winced. Some of her worst decisions had been, too.

"Amaranthine? We're going there?" asked Anders, his eyes rather nervous.

"Don't worry, Anders, I won't let the big, bad templars get you." said Oghren, who chuckled.

"It's not that..." said Anders, his voice trailing off.

"Lady troubles?" asked Oghren.

Anders let out a bitter laugh. "Something like that." he said.

Neria sighed. "Well, we won't have time for any social calls, so I think you'll be okay." she said. "We have a Grey Warden to find."

They walked the dusty roads of Amaranthine until nightfall, with still no trace of Kristoff. Twelve inns later, Nathaniel slumped into the booth opposite Neria at the small, rundown tavern where they had finally stopped.

"Tired?" asked Anders, the corners of his mouth quirking. Anders enjoyed proving to others that his physical conditioning was superior to theirs, despite the stereotypes about mages.

"I had no idea being a Grey Warden involved so much walking." said Nathaniel.

"I have half a mind to light this Kristoff on fire, once we find him!" said Neria. "Why wouldn't he come back, when he heard the Vigil was under attack! It's all over the city, by now."

"Kristoff?" asked a barmaid. "Where is he? Have you heard from him?"

Neria shook her head, incredulous. "It's always the last place you look. I'm looking for Kristoff, actually. I'm the Warden Commander, and he is one of my wardens. He's gone missing. Do you have any idea where he may have gone?"

"He didn't say. His stuff is still up in his room, though. Rented it out until the end of the week." said the barmaid.

"I didn't even know you had rooms for rent here." said Neria.

"We don't. Not officially. Just a little broom closet with a cot. It isn't fancy, but it's cheap." said the maid.

Neria nodded.

They searched the room, and found only a journal, written in cryptic code.

"Damn it!" said Neria, and pitched the book against the wall. She considered showing off, and igniting it as it flew through the air, but practicality won out. They might end up needing the book, if Kristoff's wife proved unhelpful. That was the one good piece of information they had found. Kristoff was married, apparently, and his wife was a devout Andrastian. Neria grinned, brightening at the idea of herself and Anders, questioning people in the Chantry cathedral. Anders's taste in staffs tended toward the fantastic. His current favorite was huge, taller than Neria, at five feet, and sinister-looking, gnarled and blackened. His handsome face wouldn't endear him any friends in the chantry, either. The last thing the Chantry needed was people finding themselves attracted to _mages_. Why, that might mean that _mages _were _people. _

Neria, herself, would be enough to infuriate the Beloved Mother, she was sure. Oh, how it dug at the chantry that the Hero of all fucking Fereldan was a mage! Her race was further insult. To top things off, her robes were far too short to be considered proper, though any robes that showed the slightest bit of ankle were too short. Neria's knee-length robes were sure to inspire outrage. Neria thought of Anders's habit of flirting with everything on two legs, and grinned wider. Yes, tomorrow would be a fine day, indeed!

Neria and the rest of the wardens stayed the night at a tavern with rooms only marginally better than the Broomstick, the one they had left. Neria awakened to the sound of someone knocking at her door. She opened it, and found Anders there. At least she thought it was Anders.

This man's hair was not in its usual ponytail. Instead, it was parted down the middle, and greased into submission. The clothing was that of a peasant, plain brown homespun. The shirt hung loosely off his shoulders, and Neria could see it was made for a much fatter man. The breeches were nearly threadbare, and a bit too tight. His staff was missing.

"What in the?" asked Neria, cocking her head.

"I heard what Nathaniel said, about how ridiculous it was for me to always wear robes, and you know, maybe he's right..." said Anders, scratching an arm. "Maybe I should try to blend in a little. I don't want to bring trouble to your doorstep, after all."

Neria burst into laughter. "Anders, trouble has been dogging me since the day I left the tower. Please, change back into your regular robes."

Anders crossed his arms over his chest. "Don't I have the freedom to dress as I wish?"

Neria snapped her fingers, and flames burst out along his left sleeve. Anders let out a most unmanly shriek, and then recovered himself enough to put out the fire.

"You didn't even enchant them? Honestly, Anders!" scolded Neria. "What would have happened the first time you tried to do a fire spell?"

An angry flush colored Anders's cheeks. "So you light me on fire to prove a point?" he asked.

"Yes." said Neria stubbornly.

Anders glared at her once more, and then his mouth twitched. He laughed until he doubled over.

"Oh, Maker! What kind of idiot am I? It'd never even occurred to me to wear regular clothing until Nathan said something...I guess 'bumpkin' really doesn't suit me, does it?" asked Anders, peering in the mirror behind Neria.

"I don't know, those breeches are very, uh, flattering." said Neria, leering at him. Anders's face flushed, and he gaped for a moment.

"In the words of a very wise drunkard, don't play with fire unless you want to get burned, son." said Neria, and cackled.

Anders left, and reappeared minutes later, dressed in a sombre grey robe, his staff strapped to his back. He had also arranged his brown hair into his usual ponytail, though it still looked rather greasy.

Their day at the cathedral was everything Neria had hoped. An ambitious young priestess immediately set upon Oghren, convinced she would be able to convert him of his wicked, heathen religion. Neria was too far away to overhear their conversation, but she watched in delight as the priestess's face turned red, and then purple.

"I think her head might explode. Might want to take cover." observed Nathaniel.

The priestess ran, knocking into Neria as she fled.

"Pardon me." said Neria politely. She was met with a hateful glare, and then the priestess was gone.

"Maker's breath, Oghren, what did you say to her?" asked Neria.

"Just a little pillow talk." said Oghren, and tugged on his beard.

Neria found the Beloved Mother's office, and after a good fifteen minutes of politely asking for an audience, she was beginning to get irritated. She had just started raising her voice, when the door flew open, and the priestess stood there, her face stormy.

"What is the meaning of all this? Get way from my door!" said the Beloved Mother.

"I am merely seeking an audience with you, your Grace." said Neria mildly.

The Beloved Mother sighed. "As long as it will end your fussing, by all means! I have nothing better to do this afternoon." she said, and gestured at the chairs in her office. The Beloved Mother balked at Neria bringing along Nathaniel and Anders (Oghren was too busy tasting devotional wine to bother with official business).

"I don't know who you think you are, or why you think you'll be allowed to bring your gang. Why, you should be happy I've even agreed to speak with someone like you."

"I'm the Warden Commander of Fereldan, and also Arlessa of Amaranthine." said Neria, her gaze pinning the priestess. She watched the woman's cheeks flush with embarrassment, which was the common response when people found out she was a little too important to be openly racist to. "You have your body guards-" Neria looked at the Templars, who glared back at her. "I have mine." Anders gave a fierce, feral smile to one of the Templars, and Neria suddenly saw why Anders had been captured so many times. The man exuded an air of defiance, which coupled with Templars' magic-sensing abilities, was practically catnip for paladins. Neria brushed away the ridiculous image of Knight Commander Gregoir rolling around on the ground with a giant ball of yarn and focused on the face of the woman in front of her.

"Commander of the Grey, are you? Hmmph." said the high priestess, looking down her nose at Neria.

"Blah, blah, magic exists to serve man." said Neria, rolling her eyes. "Save it. I'm looking for the wife of one of my wardens. He's gone missing, and we think she might know where he is."

The Beloved Mother sighed loudly, making it clear just how little she wanted to help Neria, in any way. "I've not seen any of your wardens at services. I doubt the wife of one would be any more pious."

Neria snorted. "No, I've been a little too busy fighting darkspawn to make it to church. Her name is Aura, if that helps."

"Aura?" gasped the Beloved Mother. "But she's one of my most devout parishioners! Married to a Grey Warden?"

"So you know her. Where can I find her, do you think?"

The Beloved Mother glanced at the sun out the window. "She should be here any moment. She never misses the daily devotional. She's a tall woman, and often wears a red headkerchief."

"Thank you, deeply." said Neria. She fished out two sovereign from a pouch on her belt, and dropped them on the shocked priestess's desk.

"For your charitable endeavors." said Neria, her voice sarcastic on the word "charitable." She heard Nathaniel cough, and saw Anders openly laughing. The Beloved Mother looked torn between her greed for the sizable sum Neria had tossed her way, and the desire to have them all smote by Templars. Neria figured she had pushed the woman far enough for the day, and bowed, backing out of the room.

"I can't believe you gave her that much!" said Anders. "Though I'd pay more, just to see that look on her face, again."

"I doubt you've ever had that much money in your life." said Nathaniel. "You really shouldn't make an enemy out of the Chantry..."

"Oh, I was their enemy the moment I was born." scoffed Neria. "If she wants me, she can try to come and get me. I have an in with the King, anyway."

"And an out, if you know what I'm sayin'" said Oghren, popping up from the pew, where he had been napping.

Neria gave him a blank look.

"In-and-out. Eh? Eh?" said Oghren. Neria felt Nathaniel and Anders stare at her.

"Let's move on, shall we?" she asked briskly. "Oh, look, there's Aura."

When they returned to Vigil's Keep, Neria found the Seneschal waiting for her at the gate. Her heart leapt in her chest. Was the Keep under attack?

It was, but not by darkspawn. By nobles, all demanding she provide soldiers to protect their homes. The darkspawn had been raiding, apparently, and in Neria's absence, two trade caravans had been attacked.

Neria agreed to meet with them the following day. She had hoped to stop only to re-supply, and then leave to find Kristoff, but it didn't look like she would be that lucky.

Neria sighed, staring down at the stacks of parchment, all waiting for her approval. Hadn't she left the Circle to avoid the endless paperwork? There were trade manifests to approve, marriage certificates to sign, land disputes to settle, and ruffled egos to soothe. Neria heard a knock at the door, and she absently waved her hand in the air, opening it. Nathaniel stood there, looking surprised, then stepped in.

"Commander, when are we going to go out into the field again?" he asked.

"Whenever I get done with all of this endless busywork." said Neria, gesturing to the pile. "So, probably later this week."

Nathaniel frowned. "What are you working on?" he asked, and moved swiftly to her side. The silent, catlike way he moved reminded Neria of Zevran, and she smiled, thinking of her friend's letter. It hadn't taken long for him write, or to break the hearts of half the new Wardens arriving from Orlais.

Nathaniel picked up one of the documents. "This is a trade manifest." he said.

"Good eye." muttered Neria. She was really not in the mood to field whatever new accusations Nathaniel had thought up. He liked to find her about every other day and list off all the injustices done to his family.

"Why are you even handling this?" asked Nathaniel, quirking an eyebrow.

"Because it's my job?" said Neria.

"This could be easily handled by the Seneschal." said Nathaniel.

Neria looked up at him. "Truly?" she asked.

Nathaniel let out a surprised laugh. "What else did you think his job was?"

"I dunno, to stand around and act sage?" asked Neria. "You mean, it's his job to do all this crap? That sneaky bastard!"

"He probably doesn't want to step on your toes. New rulers often like to oversee every part of their operation." said Nathaniel.

"Well, he's welcome to all of it!" said Neria. She triumphantly moved the stacks of parchment over to the other side of the desk. She saw Nathaniel's look.

"What? That's my 'done' side." she said. "Now, I only have one more thing to do, and then we can get back out there!" said Neria excitedly.

"You know, you're different from others of your kind." said Nathaniel. Neria's headache came back suddenly.

"I mean, if more elves took charge like you, I can't help but think that your people might be better off." said Nathaniel.

Neria sighed, wanting to bang her head against the desk. She really didn't like being the crusader against ignorance with every non-magical human she met. Neria heard a hiss from the doorway, and saw Anders there, his eyes narrowed at Nathaniel, and his mouth opening for an argument.

She quickly spoke. "Nathaniel, I have had the advantage of growing up in an environment where equality wasn't a lofty goal: it was an enforced reality. My 'people,' as you call them, have not had the privilege. If you watched every high-achieving member of your community be hung, or have their houses burned down and their daughters raped (Neria thought of Shianni's story, and anger flared inside her), I hardly think you would "take charge."

"I wouldn't just stand around, letting myself be crushed under humans' heels." argued Nathaniel.

"Oh? Seems to me that when your lands were stripped from you, you didn't exactly lead an armed resistance. Snuck around like a thief in the night, more like." said Anders angrily.

Nathaniel's face flushed, and he spun, sweeping out of the room.

Neria smiled at Anders. "Thanks." she said.

"What kind of crazy shit passes for thought in that guy's brain?" asked Anders, glaring in the direction Nathaniel had disappeared.

Neria shrugged. "He's a noble. He's probably never even met an elf who wasn't a servant, before."

"Do you hear this stuff a lot?" asked Anders.

"Yes. It was dreadful, when I first left the Circle." said Neria. "I mean, once in a while, a new Templar would slip up, and call me "elf," but that was the worst of it. The day I left the Tower, a man offered me money to sleep with him, and attacked me when I told him 'no."

Anders scowled.

"Oh, he didn't live long. Duncan dispatched him, pretty quickly." said Neria. "Regardless, that day was still the best of my life. I can't describe the feeling of freedom."

"You don't have to." said Anders. "I know exactly what you mean."


	5. Chapter 5

Neria lit the third draft of her report on fire, watching it burn into cinders on her desk. She wondered what, exactly, she should write. Should she be familiar? She didn't want to give Alistair the idea that she was interested...or did she? No, no. That door was closed, now, and firmly bolted. Neria tried to summon up the righteous anger that had sustained her since the Landsmeet, but found nothing. She wasn't really angry at Alistair anymore. She thought about it, and realized that the hot, happy feeling that had always accompanied his image in her head, even at her angriest, was gone, too. Now she just missed her friends. Maker, what she would give to hear Jowan's whining, or Zevran's digusting sex stories, or Morrigan and Alistair's arguments.

The loss of Morrigan hurt the most, she thought with surprise. Alistair had been her good friend, and her first lover, but Morrigan was her closest friend. No one else could really commiserate about what it was like, to be a mage in Fereldan. It was Morrigan who had come for her, in Fort Drakon, before the others had even formulated rescue plans. Morrigan, who had never spoken a word about what had happened to Neria there. Finally, it was Morrigan who had saved Neria from a brutal death, courtesy of the archdemon. Neria had given her promise not to find her friend, and she would keep it, no matter how much she missed the woman she considered a sister.

Neria stood up. Burning through parchment wasn't helping anything. Maybe doing some mindless enchatment work would help clear her mind.

Neria stepped into her room, and stiffened. The room smelled...different. She saw a shadow move, and blasted flame toward it.

Leiliana appeared, yelping.

"Is that any way to greet a friend?" she asked.

"You know it is." said Neria, smiling widely. "Leliana!" She ran to the bard, and wrapped her arms around her friend.

"It was your perfume that gave you away." said Neria. "Andraste's Grace. I should have known."

Leiliana laughed. "I forgot about your keen nose. I even bribed Snuggles to keep quiet, too!"

Neria looked over at the Mabari, who looked up guiltily from a meaty bone.

"Traitor." said Neria, shaking her head. "To what do I owe the pleasure? I thought you were busy with the Urn?"

"Oh, that is coming along nicely. I started to craved adventure, though." said Leiliana.

Neria snorted. "You know, you really should work on your lying skills. You're getting rusty. Why are you really here?"

Leiliana's blue eyes widened. "You always have been good at reading me, but you're right, I have had little reason to lie, lately. Truth be told, now that the dragon is gone, Haven is very quiet. I enjoy it there a great deal. I was asked to deliver an important message, however, and also, I miss you, Neria. You disappeared so quickly after the coronation. Alistair nearly tore the city apart, looking for you. He was so relieved when the letter arrived from Soldiers' Peak."

Neria narrowed her eyes. "He has only himself to blame."

Leiliana nodded. "I know what he did. Zevran has never been good at keeping secrets from pretty women, you know. I have not come at the behest of the King, no worries there."

"Then who sent you? If Zevran or Jowan wanted to send a message, they would just send a Warden." said Neria. "Was it Wynne, or Shale? Have they found a cure?"

Leiliana shook her head. She pulled an envelope from the front of her robes, and handed it to Neria.

"I'll let you read that, in private. I saw your group of nobles downstairs, and the Chantry could always use more donations, no?" said Leiliana, who grinned and picked up her lute.

Neria looked down at the envelope. She could feel magic humming through it, and cautiously opened it. She trusted Leiliana, but thought the bard perhaps put too much faith in the Chantry, and may have been tricked into carrying something dangerous.

Neria shook the envelope. Something small and strangely textured fell into her hand. A seashell. Neria frowned at it, and pulled the accompanying letter out of the envelope. At the touch of her fingers, text appeared across the page.

"I have seen the ocean, and let the waves lap at my feet. It is everything we used to talk about. Take care, my friend, and trust that I am safe."

It was not signed, but Neria had known as soon as she saw the writing, who it was from. Morrigan was safe, and had finally fulfilled her dream of seeing the ocean. They had gone down to the docks in Denerim, and both women had been disappointed at the filthy water, with pieces of trash floating around in it. Morrigan had declared that she would visit a piece of coast that was uninhabitated, that she would see the wild beauty described in books. It seemed that she had.

Neria looked at the small, pink shell in her hand. She had never seen a seashell in real life before, only seen drawings in books. It was beautiful, hard and ridged on one side, with a smooth, luminescent pink on the other.

Neria pulled at the necklaces at her neck, looking for one. She slipped it off over her head. Neria looked down at the locket, with the dried rose inside. She detached the locket, allowed herself one last look, and then pitched it into the fireplace. A snap of her fingers, and it was nothing but a little lump of brass. Nostalgia, and grief washed over her, but they were soon gone, replaced with a giddy sense of freedom.

Neria picked up the empty chain, and every-so-delicately heated the ends of it, fastening it to the shell. The end result was something rather wild-looking. Something Morrigan herself would wear, thought Neria with a smile. She fastened it around her neck, and looked up to a commotion in the hallway.

Neria looked out the door, and saw Leiliana wrestling a full-length mirror up the hallway.

"Ah, so she has finally found something she can't steal easily." called Neria.

Leiliana looked up, her cheeks pink with exertion. "You could help me!"

"Allow me." said a male voice. Nathaniel appeared behind Leiliana, and helped her carry the mirror into Neria's room.

"Thank you so much." said Leiliana.

Nathaniel bowed a little, his black hair falling into his eyes. He straightened. "The pleasure was all mine, my lady." he said.

Neria grinned, watching Leiliana's small smile as she watched Nathaniel disappear.

"That is Nathaniel Howe, Arl Howe's son!" said Leiliana. "What is he doing here?"

"I'm not going to even ask how it is that you know everyone in my Keep better than I do." said Neria. "He's a Warden, now. I found him in the dungeon, after some guards arrested him for breaking in. He has told me that he had intended on assasinating me."

Leiliana's eyes sharpened. "Do you need me to take care of him?" she asked.

Neria laughed. "Why, Sister! What would Andraste say?"

"The wicked shall fall before the righteous, and the Maker will guide their hands." quoted Leiliana.

"Right. Creepy, as usual." said Neria. "No, he's been quite a valuable asset. He picks locks even faster than you used to, and is the second-best I've seen with a bow."

"Who's the best?" asked Leliana.

"Why, you, of course." said Neria. She then saw Leiliana's sly smile. "Right, right, and you're also the prettiest, and have the best taste in shoes. I can't thank you enough for bringing this package to me. How did you get it?"

"It appeared at the Chantry one day, near where I take my morning walk. It wouldn't allow me to open it, and gave me a nasty shock every time I tried. I guessed it was from Morrigan. Was I right?"

asked Leiliana.

"Yes." said Neria. "But why would you deliver a package from Morrigan? You two don't like one another."

"Because it is important to you." said Leiliana. "Now, aren't you wondering why I brought this mirror?"

"Not really." said Neria, eyeing the mirror apprehensively. "I had a hell of a time getting all the ribbons out of my hair from the coronation. Finally, I ended up just cutting them out."

Leiliana giggled. "It suits you, somehow."

Neria looked at her hair in the mirror. She didn't see anything special about it. It was the same hair it had always been, thick and unruly, still stuck somewhere between blonde and brown. Today it was not in its usual braid, and was rather frizzy from the humid day. Neria pushed aside her bangs, reminding herself to cut them soon.

"I noticed you didn't have a mirror. Why is that?" asked Leiliana.

"I guess I don't care all that much what I look like." said Neria, frowning into the mirror. Her face was still slightly pink with sunburn, and her blasted freckles were even more prominent. Neria met her own eyes in the mirror. Like her hair, they were indeterminant in color, wavering between blue and green.

"I see you looking at yourself in there! It is not a sin to indulge in a little vanity now and then." said Leiliana, smiling behind Neria. Quick as a flash, Leiliana had a comb out, and began working at Neria's hair.

"Have you not combed it since the Coronation?" asked Leiliana.

"Hmm, maybe once or twice." said Neria, enjoying the feel of having her hair combed.

Leiliana stayed for a few days, and managed to write Neria's report for her, too. In those days, she thoroughly charmed everyone at the Peak, including the rather sour Nathaniel. Neria found them out in the training yard, engaged in a fierce shooting competition. Leiliana won, but only by the slightest margin. Neria thought, rather traitorously, that her victory had been due to the much finer quality of her bow. Neria didn't say it, and instead just congratulated her friend.

"We have to get you a new bow." said Neria to Nathaniel.

"This one is adequate." said Nathaniel. "I wish I knew what happened to my grandfather's bow. That was a thing of beauty. I hate to think of a darkspawn using it."

"Oh? What did it look like?' asked Neria, picturing the broken bow in her room. Nathaniel described it, and Neria could barely keep herself from grinning. She knew that her packrat tendencies would eventually pay out. Neria left Nathaniel in the yard, chatting with Leiliana, and went up to her room. She withdrew the bow from her pack, and sure enough, there was the Howe crest, burned into the top. Neria took a side exit, and found Wade. After agreeing to bring the weaponsmith any rare items she found, he reluctantly agreed to repair it, and then only under pressure from Harren.

"Come back tomorrow." said Wade. "I'll have this old thing better than new."

The morning Leiliana left, Neria rounded up her group. She put aside finding Kristoff in favor of stopping the attacks on the trade caravans. She packed some supplies, and put on her new robe. She was finally satisfied with its enchantments. Neria was not naturally talented at enchantment, but with a lot of practice, she had managed some mid-level enchantments for her robes. Most mages would have jumped at the chance to wear the robes Neria had found or been given in her travels, but Neria was not most mages. She hadn't always been so paranoid, of course. Once, she had delighted in her new robes, the ones that announced to every other mage that she, Neria Amell, had passed her Harrowing, and was now officially a Circle mage. Neria closed her eyes, remembering the day she had burned her circle robes.

"Okay, now we only need to draw two more runes, and then we'll see how well this spell works." said Morrigan, looking at a diagram in her mother's grimoire. "Wynne, you know which enchantments are on Neria's robes, right?"

"Yes. The same that should be on every new mage's robes: resistance to cold, electricity, and nearly impervious to water and flame." said Wynne. "I'm afraid all of my robes have had so many enchantments put on them that it would be impossible to tell if the spell was accurate or not. I'm sorry we are taking your only set, Neria."

"Oh, no! I'm excited!" said Neria. "If this works, it will save us so much time trying to figure out what enchantments are on the stuff we find." Neria sat, clothed in only her shift. "I'm not cold, anyway. Primal mage, remember?"

Wynne smiled, and finished drawing the rune. They all watched excitedly as script began to appear above the robe.

Wynne translated the magical language aloud, mostly speaking to herself.

"Flame resistance, water resistance, electricity resistance, cold resistance.....oh. Oh my." said Wynne.

Neria jumped up, shouting the last enchantment. "Untero? Tracking?!"

"I'm sure there must be a mistake." said Wynne. Neria ran across the camp and dug into Wynne's pack, grabbing a spare robe. She threw it into the wards They watched as the spell worked, listing twenty or so enchantments, until the same phrase popped up.

"But I never-I never put a tracking spell on it." said Wynne quietly, her hand held to her mouth.

Morrigan pulled her shirt over her head, and stood, shivering in the morning cold. She dropped her shirt into the pile.

No tracking enchantment showed up, so it was not an error in the charm. Neria stood, staring at the script floating over Morrigan's shirt, waiting for the that last little phrase to show up. It didn't.

"They've been watching us." said Neria suddenly. "Our whole lives, and we didn't even know it. All those times, we thought we caught a few moments alone in the library, or discovered a secret nook, away from the templars...they knew where we were. No wonder that templar, Cullen, always knew where I was."

Wynne's face was sorrowful, and angry. "All the enchantment-detecting spells I know, every single one has failed to turn this up."

"I knew, I knew about the phylactery. There isn't any way I'll be free of them without destroying it, but at least I knew about that. This? This feels so much worse." said Neria. "Every time I thought I was stealing a kiss, or-" Neria choked. She picked up her robe, which she had taken such fastidious care of, which had _meant something_ to her, and walked swiftly over to the fire, where Alistair and Sten were eating breakfast. Alistair looked up, and his cheeks flared pink at seeing her in nothing but a shift. Neria avoided his gaze, and pitched her robe into the fire. It didn't burn, but seeing it there was satisfying, somehow.

Neria shook her head, staring down at her new, plain green robe. Though it wasn't fancy, it was hers. Neria had learned her lesson, and now trusted only two other people to enchant anything she owned. Sandal, because she doubted he possessed the aptitude for subterfuge, and also because she watched every minute he enchanted, and Morrigan, because Morrigan had never betrayed her. Wynne did not warrant the trust, because Wynne insisted, even with all the evidence in front of her nose, that the Circle only wanted to protect mages.

Neria turned, examining herself in the mirror. The color-changing spell Anders had suggested had worked well enough to change the garish purple into a rather muddy green. Neria had had the robes altered, when she first arrived. She was tall, for an elf (still a head shorter than Leiliana.), but the main problem was her body, which insisted on breaking all the stereotypes of willowy, slender elves. Once upon a time, Neria had even been plump, but years of little food and too much walking had cured that. Neria sighed, looking at her bottom. Still stubbornly large, just like her thighs, and her breasts.

Neria slung her staff across her back, and finished her packing. She saw the Howe bow, shining with polish in the corner of her room, and picked it up. Hopefully the bow would help her relationship with Nathaniel. Neria didn't like tension among people she trusted to keep her alive.

Neria found Anders waiting in the main hall, excitement shining in his eyes, his pack slung over his shoulder. Anders hated being in one place for too long, or even keeping still, Neria noticed. He was always tapping on something, or whistling, much to Nathaniel's annoyance.

Oghren and Nathaniel waited a ways off, talking quietly. Nathaniel looked up at her approach, and his eyes widened at the bow in her hands.

"Here, Nathaniel." said Neria. "I found it in the dungeon, when we were down there. It was in bad shape, but Wade fixed it up pretty well."

Nathaniel took the bow, his hands trembling. "This-this is it! It looks just how I remember." said Nathaniel, tracing a finger over the crest. "You. Why would you go through all this trouble? What do you want?" asked Nathaniel.

"Fine way to accept a gift." grumbled Oghren.

"I don't want anything for it, Nathaniel. It belongs to you. I'm sorry it wasn't returned sooner." said Neria.

Nathaniel shook his head, staring at the bow, his grey eyes unreadable.

Anders cleared his throat. "Can we get going? I'm sick of this place."


	6. Chapter 6

That night, they stopped for camp. Neria began pulling hardtack out of her pack, but Nathaniel stopped her.

"I can easily hunt for us. No need to resort to that kind of fare, yet." he said.

"Alright." said Neria. "Take Snuggles with you, he's a good hunter."

"Snuggles." called Nathaniel, wincing at the name. He gave her a look.

"I was seventeen, and in my defense, he is very snuggly." said Neria, looking at her dog fondly.

Nathaniel shook his head, and disappeared into the forest. Anders also disappeared.

Neria set up their tents, then sat on the ground near the fire. Neria turned to Oghren, who was busy setting out a pan for their meal.

"Hungry?" asked Neria. "He probably won't be back for a couple hours."

"I'm always hungry. Feel like I could eat a bronto." said Oghren.

"Yeah." said Neria. "I think I'll cook, if you don't mind. I don't remember your cooking as particularly...edible."

"I've gotten better. Felsi is ruttin' terrible at it, so I've made do." said Oghren.

"How is Felsi, by the way?" asked Neria. "She had the baby, right?"

"Yeah." said Oghren shortly. "Named 'er Neria."

"What?" asked Neria incredulously. "Why would you do that?"

"Didn't name 'er after you! Felsi's got a cousin with the same name." said Oghren.

Neria sighed in relief. "Good."

"Awww, you're no fun. Course we named 'er after you! You're the biggest soddin' hero in the world to me. The second-biggest to Felsi. I'm the biggest, to her, you know." said Oghren, waggling his eyebrows.

"That was almost touching." said Anders, appearing behind Oghren. "You know, if you hadn't added that disgusting little part at the end, I may have even shed a tear."

"Where did you go?" asked Neria.

"Well, I figured dinner would be better if it wasn't just meat." said Anders. He emptied his bag onto the ground by them. "I found some watercress, some blackberries, and elfroot."

"What about this?" asked Neria, picking up a cattail.

"Oh! Watch." said Anders, and began shaking the cattails, which were yellow with pollen. "The powder makes a good flour. Add some water, blackberries, and you have an exceptional tart."

"Your mom was an exceptional tart." snorted Oghren. Neria laughed. Anders rolled his eyes at both of them.

An hour later, Neria closed her eyes in pleasure as she finished her blackberry tart. It was nothing special; just mushed blackberries on top of flatcakes, but it was delicious. She stood up, brushed off her robe, and began circling the camp. She drew the usual paralyzing and alarm runes. As she was completing the final rune, she heard the sound of splitting wood. Neria called out to Nathaniel, intending on telling him that wood was really unecessary, with her in the camp. He didn't turn. Neria felt irritation prickle at her. She really needed to have a talk with him about basic manners. She stomped up, then stopped short when she saw that the man cutting wood was Anders.

"Why are you cutting wood?" asked Neria. Anders knew of magical fire, so why was he out here, flexing muscles that a mage really shouldn't have...

"For a fire." said Anders.

"Uh..." said Neria.

"Yes, yes, I know that we're very magical and all, but sometimes, I miss the smell of woodsmoke." said Anders. "And nothing really compares."

Neria watched him wipe the sweat off his forehead with the back of his arm. He finished splitting the wood, and Neria wondered how he had gotten so proficient with an axe, or how he knew to find food in the wild.

"Where'd you learn about all this?" asked Neria. "I wouldn't know the first thing about what to eat in the forest. I don't even really know which berries are poisonous. Did you read books about it? I never saw books like that in the library. "

"I didn't always live at the Circle." said Anders, picking up the wood.

"How old were you, when the Templars came?" asked Neria. "I think I was five."

"Fifteen." said Anders.

"Maker." swore Neria. "How did you hide it?"

"Well, not everyone is shooting electricity from their eyes, you know. Some of us have more mundane talents." said Anders.

Neria looked at him, and saw that his face was carefully blank, his hazel eyes distant.

"If you don't want to talk about it, that's fine." said Neria softly. She picked up the rest of the wood, staggering under the heavy load. Anders watched her stumble, and grinned.

"You really aren't very strong, are you?" he asked, taking half of her armful.

Neria scowled. "Well, I'm no warrior." she said, following him through the long grass. They dropped their armfuls next to the firepit. Anders reached out and squeezed Neria's bicep. Neria pulled away, frowning, as he laughed.

"I bet you had a hard time, leaving the Tower." said Anders.

"As a matter of fact, yes, I did." said Neria. She saw the interested faces of Nathaniel and Oghren. "Okay, I'll tell you all my deepest, darkest secret."

They leaned in. Oghren licked his lips.

"I was....I was the Circle fat kid." said Neria. "I thought the walk from the Tower to Ostagar was going to kill me, and then at the actual battle? Alistair charged up three flights of stairs like they were nothing. I puked on the second floor landing, and then puked again at the top." said Neria. She saw Anders's teasing grin, and even saw Nathaniel smirking.

"Alistair thought it was because I was scared, or because I'd never been in a battle before." said Neria. "I wasn't that scared. It was less scary than my Harrowing, actually. Those stairs got closer to killing me than any darkspawn ever did."

Nathaniel burst into laughter, the first time any of them had heard him laugh. He laughed until he wiped at his eyes.

"I had this image of you, in my mind. This scary, demonic mage who burst into my home and killed my father." said Nathaniel. "Ten feet tall, fire shooting from your fingertips. Somehow, it makes me feel better to know that my father's killer was a plump elf with frizzy hair."

"Hey! I wasn't plump anymore, by that time." said Neria, aware of how surreal it was to joke about the circumstances surrounding the death of a man by her hand, with his son. "As for my hair, well, that's a lost cause."

Nathaniel seemed to realize exactly what they were discussing, and his face darkened. He grimaced, and disappeared into his tent.

Neria enjoyed the fire. On rare occasions, when she and the other mages had exhausted themselves, Alistair or Sten would cut wood and light a fire. The smell of the smoke reminded her of long, hard days on the road, but also of the first night of freedom, following Duncan out of the Tower.

Anders sat next to her, his collar and neck wet with sweat.

"Too warm?" asked Neria. "I'm not even sure we need a fire anymore, now that the food is cooked."

"Nah, after all that hard work? I'm damned well going to sit next to this fire until it burns out." said Anders.

Neria laughed. "How was it that we weren't friends at the Circle?" she asked. "I don't remember you, at all."

Anders shrugged. "I was usually in trouble. All of my attention was focused on one thing: escape. Didn't really have the time or energy for friendships."

Neria looked at him, her eyes wide and sympathetic. "I'm sorry, Anders."

Anders frowned at her. "Don't be sorry. If anyone should be pitied, it's you and the rest of the mages, content to sit around in prison. You didn't even know there was a whole wide world to miss. Sunlight, the smell of the ground after the first spring rain, fucking without someone watching." said Anders. He laughed sharply. "I bet you didn't even know that the Templars watch, that they know every secret spot in the Tower."

Neria slit her eyes at him. "Have you looked at my robes lately?" she asked.

Anders looked at her. "What? What does that have to do with anything?"

Neria shook a poorly-dyed, rolled-up sleeve at him. "Don't you think I could afford better than this?"

Anders raised an eyebrow. "Probably." he said.

"It's because I _was _that naïve kid from the Tower. I found out about the tracking charms three months after leaving, and since then, I don't trust anyone to enchant anything for me. I make do with my rudimentary skills because I'd rather get burned than be collared." spat Neria. She stood up. "Not everyone was as lucky as you, Anders. The most I remember of my mother is the way her dress felt in my fingers as they ripped me away, cheap, and rough. I remember cobblestone under my feet, and that's it. I know I'm from an alienage because of the cobblestone, and because of 'these'" said Neria, putting her hands behind her ears and pushing them out. "Pardon me for trying to be nice and sympathizing with you on what must have been a shitty, lonely time in your life." Neria turned sharply, and walked to her tent.

"Good one, Anders" sighed Anders to himself as he watched Neria stalk away.

They reached the first caravan a day later. Neria watched the new recruits take in the carnage. Neither showed much emotion, which was a relief. Neria had no idea how much war either of them had seen.

"This doesn't look like a darkspawn attack." said Neria.

"Why do you say that?" asked Nathaniel, looking interested.

"Darkspawn like to mutilate corpses." said Neria, crouching next to a dead merchant.

"These look pretty mutilated to me." said Anders.

"No, these are just burned, or frozen. Darkspawn like to cut them up in tiny pieces, and then string the pieces from the trees."

Anders and Nathaniel grimaced. Oghren began digging through the merchants' tipped caravan.

"What are you doing? Have some respect for the dead!" said Nathaniel sharply.

"Ain't gonna fund a new wall for the Keep with respect." said Oghren. "Reckon the other merchants will pay good money for some of this stuff."

Nathaniel and Anders looked at her expectantly. "Sure will." said Neria, ignoring their disapporoving looks.

"Pick up anything that looks really valuable, and light." said Neria. "We can send some men for the rest, after we get back to the Keep."

"So Wardens are corpse-robbers?" sneered Nathaniel.

"When we have to be, yes." said Neria. "We win by any means necessary, and winning often involves new weapons and full bellies, neither of which are free. Besides, you have no problem stealing from the living! I hardly think the dead is more in need of this stuff."

"It just seems...wrong." grumbled Nathaniel.

Anders had gotten over his qualms quickly, and jumped easily into the back of the wagon. Neria watched him open a jewelry box.

"What's in there?" asked Neria, scrambling into the wagon with a boost from Oghren. Anders held it out to her. A few mis-matched earrings gleamed at the bottom of the box. Neria pushed it back toward Anders.

"It's yours." she said.

"What?" asked Anders.

"You like earrings, right? These are yours, now." said Neria. She heard Oghren cackle his special "I found liquor." cackle. Neria watched Oghren's flame-coloured hair approach.

"One thing I love about the Commander; she shares!" said Oghren. He held up a bottle of something. Neria squinted at the label.

"Looks fine, Oghren. Go ahead." she said.

"See? Damned generous, is what she is!" said Oghren excitedly. Neria heard the pop of the bottle opening.

"So, I can just...take what I want?" asked Anders.

"Something catches your eye, sure." said Neria. "Ask me if it seems important, otherwise, take whatever you want. It's one of the perks of being a Grey Warden; first choice of the loot." Neria saw Nathaniel standing stiffly off to the side.

"Oo, look, Anders! I think these are Tevinter fire arrows. Too bad we'll just have to leave them here." said Neria. Nathaniel edged over, peering into the wagon. Neria threw the quiver, and he caught it easily, then smiled, shaking his head.

Neria hopped out of the wagon, chewing thoughtfully on a dried apricot.

"Do you ever stop eating?" asked Nathaniel.

Neria smirked as his stomach growled audibly. "No. Neither do you." she said, and held out a handful of sugared, dried fruit.

"Oh." said Nathaniel in a small voice. "Honeyed apricots. I haven't had these since I was a child."

Anders jogged up to them. "Candy?"

Neria held out a piece to him, and he bent, taking it from her fingers with his lips. They brushed her fingertips, soft and wet. She turned away, her cheeks flaming. Neria's classmates had lived up to the legendary rumors about mage promiscuity, but Neria herself had always been somewhat of an outsider, too interested in books and exams to be very interesting to anyone. _Well, anyone but that creepy templar,_ she thought. She looked at Anders, who was grinning impudently at her. Ah, so he was like Zevran, a flirt. She could deal with that.

"Maybe we should get going, before whatever killed these merchants comes back." said Nathaniel.

"These are old kills." grunted Oghren. "We need to keep movin', if we want to catch up to them."

They came across more caravans, though they held mostly carpets and fabric. The attacks seemed to get messier. The merchants had more scorch marks on them than the previous victims, which meant that the mage responsible was getting tired, and resorting to less powerful spells. Neria found one man who looked like he had a tree growing through his torso. She snickered. In a way, he did.

"What kind of spell is this, do you think?" asked Anders, staring up.

Neria heard a familiar crackling, creaking sound, and she pulled Anders back.

"Oghren! Tree spirits!" she shouted. Before the bottle Oghren dropped hit the ground, his axe was off his back.

Neria turned to Nathaniel, who was staring up in horror.

"Nathaniel! I need you to cover me." she said. Nathaniel nodded absently, notching an arrow.

Neria concentrated on shielding them. Magic outside the primal school was not impossible for her, but it took much more focus, and instead of flowing smoothly through and out her, it hitched along, dragging and catching like a calloused hand across silk.

"Great. Now trees can be possessed, too?" muttered Anders. He followed Neria's lead and aimed fire toward the tree's trunk.

Neria felt the earth move under them, and she pushed Anders roughly aside, tackling him to the groun. Roots shot up where they had been standing. She rolled off him and got to her feet, screeching incantations. The tree shook with lightning, then creaked ominously. It fell forward, smashing to the ground a few feet from where Neria stood.

"Timbron!" shouted Oghren, waving his axe in the air.

"It's 'timber', you daft dwarf." said Nathaniel.

"Really? Hmm. I been saving that joke a while." said Oghren. "Ah, well."

They camped that night in a clearing. Anders and Nathaniel were wary of trees, and keep jumping whenever wind rustled the leaves. Neria and Oghren found this hilarious, and began a drinking game accordingly.

"Did you see how high sparklefingers jumped? That should be two drinks." said Oghren.

"You're a cruel taskmaster." said Neria, holding the bottle up to her lips.

"Should you really be drinking? What if the tree-what if something attacks?" asked Anders.

"Then I'll still be fine." said Neria. "Luckily for me, my magic doesn't really rely on me being articulate to be really fucking....fucking awesome."

Anders sighed. "Must be nice. Healing magic has to be precise."

Neria patted the log next to her and he sat. She looked at him, the flames from their campfire dancing in her eyes. "You're saying I'm not precise?" she asked. The fire flared up, and Anders scrambled back. Oghren roared in laughter.

"That's three drinks, my red-headed friend!" shouted Neria.

"What game are you even playing? What are the rules?" asked Nathaniel. "I've been trying to follow along, but it was incomprehensible, even while you two were sober."

"We make it up as we go along. Mostly, it involves drinking whenever either of you two acts lik a sodding baby." said Neria. "Ooo the trees are gonna get me! Save me, Neria" she said, clutching at herself.

Nathaniel muttered to himself, walking to the edge of the camp.

More animated trees awaited them the next day, and Neria found herself pinned to the ground, a heavy branch across her back. A loud crack like a branch breaking, and pain lanced through her side. Neria had been spoiled by Alistair, and never really learned to watch out for herself during battle, relying on him and her shields to block most attacks. Neria screamed, and fire surrounded her, burning off the branch, and shooting up the tree. Anders ran to her side, and put his hand up her robe, his hand cool against her skin. The pain in her side faded, and she got to her feet, just as the tree fell.

"I think we earned a lunch break." said Neria, aware of the eyes of her companions. "I'm fine, really, just hungry."

Nathaniel rolled his eyes, and reached into his pack for some venison jerky.

"Didn't anyone ever teach you how to dodge?" asked Nathaniel.

"No." said Neria. "I never really needed to, before. Usually I stay far enough out of reach. Plus, I've always travelled with a shield warrior, before. Maker, I could have used Alistair today."

"Alistair? King Alistair?" asked Nathaniel.

"Yeah, him." said Neria. "I learned how to fight with him at my side, and I'm still learning how to adjust."

"Well, perhaps I should teach you a few things." said Nathaniel thoughtfully.

"I don't want to impose..." said Neria hesitantly.

"It would be no bother." said Nathaniel firmly. He saw her nervously picking at a hangnail.

"I'm just not very coordinated." she mumbled.

"You are probably exaggerating." said Nathaniel.

An hour later, Nathaniel scowled at Neria, who had just given him a strong shock.

"You can't just shock me whenever you get frustrated." said Nathaniel.

"I can't?" asked Neria, and aimed another bolt at him. Nathaniel danced out of the way. "I'll never be good at this."

"Maybe not good, but you should at least be better than completely incompetent." said Nathaniel. "I can't respect a commander who trips over her own feet."

Neria got him that time, and he grimaced, rubbing at his arm.

"Aren't I your enemy, anyway?" asked Neria.

Nathaniel sighed. "But I have to follow your lead, and your mistakes could get me killed. It is in my best interest to teach you to survive."


	7. Chapter 7

Neria gave up after another hour of Nathaniel's tutelage. She didn't know how he managed to move so quickly and lightly.

"Aren't elves supposed to be nimble and light of foot?" teased Nathaniel. He called after her retreating back, "I can hear you coming a mile away. For such a tiny woman, it is incredible how much noise you make. Like an ox, or a bronto!"

"Bronto? I'll show him roasted bronto." Muttered Neria. She would have turned around to blast him, but it seemed like so much work, and she was tired. Her legs and sides ached. Her palms smarted from falling into the brambles after the stupid rock on the stupid ground tripped her.

Anders looked up from his food, and then spit it out, laughing.

"Did you get into a fight with a bush and lose?" he asked. "You're all scratched up, and look! Leaves, in your hair." Said Anders, and began plucking bits of grass and leaves from her hair.

Neria sighed. "Nathaniel tried to teach me to dodge, and be all sneaky like him. He failed, and the bush won. Maker, I had forgotten exactly how terrible I am at anything requiring coordination."

"Not anything. I remember the sounds that used to come outta your tent with Alistair. If you need some tutoring in that-" started Oghren. Neria shot an icy glare in his direction, and he swallowed. "Well, I ain't the one to ask. Nope."

Anders touched her arm. "All these scratches are from one bush? You took down a Keep's worth of darkspawn with fewer injuries." He murmured a few words, and the scratches disappeared. "There you go. Pity about your hair, though."

Neria shook her long braid, and then began eating. The food restored her energy, and she led her group down the winding road.

Anders noticed it before she did. He grabbed her arm, startling her. He winced, shaking his hand.

"Did you have to burn me? Ouch." He whined, though his hand was already healed.

"Sorry." Said Neria. "I've changed my mind about these woods. You and Nathaniel are right. They are creepy."

"You feel it, then?" whispered Anders. "The air here, it is …charged."

Neria stopped, and stood perfectly still. Now that Anders pointed it out, she did notice it. The air felt alive with magic. Neria felt as if she could channel a thousand spells without tiring. It reminded her of the feeling after drinking one of Wynne's potent lyrium potions.

Neria heard a muffled shriek, and looked up to see Nathaniel frog-marching an elven woman toward them. She had what looked like, no what was, a dirty sock shoved into her mouth.

"While you two were busy figuring out why the magic here feels different, I went out and caught the mage responsible for it, and all this trouble." Sneered Nathaniel. "I found her ahead, standing over a caravan she just blasted apart. Luckily for me, she's too tired for many more spells. I gagged her, just in case." Nathaniel looked rather proud of himself. Neria was impressed. She walked forward, unhappy to note that the woman was taller than her. Neria prided herself on her height, and had never met an elven woman who was taller. The woman was currently glaring over her shoulder at Nathaniel, pure malice in her eyes. Neria chuckled, thinking how similar Nathaniel's expression had been, the first time she met him.

Neria approached the woman, noting the Dalish tattoos on her face, and the wicked-looking staff slung over Nathaniel's shoulder. She congratulated herself on recruiting such an efficient, competent man.

"I'm going to take the sock out of your mouth. You try any spells, and I will freeze you into a block of ice so solid, you won't thaw until next summer." Said Neria. She heard Anders snicker behind her. The woman in front of her looked steadily at her, though her gaze was not quite so angry as the glare she shot at Nathaniel.

Neria pulled the sock from the woman's mouth, grimacing. At least it was one of Nathaniel's. One of Oghren's probably would have killed the poor girl.

The woman spit, wiping her mouth against her shoulder. "So an elf leads a group of shems. Never thought I'd see the day."

"Yes. I'm Commander of the Grey Wardens, and I heard that something or someone was attacking trade caravans traveling around Amaranthine." Said Neria. "That something seems to be you. Yet, you didn't take anything from the wagons. Curious."

"What use do I have for such garbage?" scoffed the woman.

"Then why did you do it?" asked Anders.

The woman ignored him, still looking at Neria.

"Well?" asked Neria.

"Those bastards killed my clan and kidnapped my sister. I'll burn them all alive for what they did. If they killed her, I'll find their homes, and burn those down, too." Said the woman, her blue eyes flashing.

"Hmm. We didn't hear any reports of kidnapping or unrest with the Dalish clans." Said Neria.

"Why would you? I wouldn't expect a flat-ear like you to know the first thing about us." Said the woman.

Neria laughed coldly. "You think a racist little comment like that is endearing you to me? Try harder, honey. Now, I'm going to take you back to Amaranthine and let the captain of the guard decide what to do with you."

Fear crossed the woman's face briefly before it settled back into a defiant snarl. Neria nodded at Nathaniel, and he gagged the woman once again.

That night was uncomfortable, to say the least. Because the woman was a mage, she could not be safely ungagged. Neria felt sorry for her, despite the woman's unrepentant confession of the destruction and murders. Neria had seen the raw anguish in the woman's eyes when she mentioned her clan and sister.

Neria awoke to Nathaniel's angry voice growling at Oghren and Anders.

"I know it was stupid. I felt sorry for the gal, is all. I didn't think it would matter much if I took the sock out of her mouth. Her hands and feet were tied, right?" said Oghren. Neria ripped open the flap to her tent, pulling her robe over her head as she charged out.

"She's gone? Damnit!" swore Neria. "What were you thinking, Oghren? Maker!"

"It's not all his fault. Anders was supposed to keep an eye on her, too." Said Nathaniel. Neria saw Anders glaring back at him.

"I went to the woods to take a piss, alright? I was gone two minutes, maybe." Said Anders. "How was I supposed to know that the dwarf would lose his freaking mind in that time?"

Neria sighed. "Oghren, you really should have known better. Anders, you should have gotten one of us if you needed to take a break." She saw them bristling, about to argue, and held up a hand. "But it doesn't matter, now. We have to catch her before she kills more merchants."

Nathaniel led the group, following the woman's tracks through the woods. He looked down at the invisible trail admiringly.

"What?" asked Neria.

"She's good. Really good." Said Nathaniel. "I can barely follow her, and she hardly had time to prepare. I've never seen anyone move this lightly."

Neria rolled her eyes. "Well, keep on it."

They came to the remains of a Dalish camp. Neria saw the wreckage of wagons, and slaughtered Halla. She crept forward after Nathaniel, alert to any sign of magic.

"Andraste's blood." Whispered Nathaniel, crouching in front of her. Neria looked down, and gasped. A little elf boy, hardly more than four or five, lay broken and battered in the leaves, his head positioned unnaturally. Neria reached out and closed his eyes, whispering the one elven prayer she knew.

"Oh." Said Anders, coming up behind them. He turned away.

Neria forced herself to look at the rest of the destruction. Corpses littered the clearing, their faces twisted in fear and horror. Neria came to a girl, her hair the same color as her own, her build similar.. In a different time or place, they could have been mistaken for sisters. The girl was not much younger than Neria, perhaps fourteen or fifteen. Her throat had been cut, and her hair was dried to her neck in black clumps Neria saw the dagger clutched in the girl's hand, and then saw the way the girl's skirt was hiked around her hips. Neria swallowed heavily and looked away, but not before she saw the blood smeared on the girl's thighs. She realized, then, that the dagger was not stained with the blood of whomever had done this, but instead, with the girl's own blood, that she had cut her own throat rather than live through the indignity. Neria felt a sob rising in her throat, and she covered her face. It had taken a long time to build up the thick skin she usually wore, and now, it felt like it had been stripped away. She wept into her hands, wryly remembering the look of horror on Alistair's face the first time she had cried like this, after they had killed the starving group of farmers in Lothering. Neria had not wept when Alistair dumped her, nor the night she had laid awake, knowing he and Morrigan were having sex. She had thought herself tough, beyond the wide-eyed, soft-hearted girl who had left the tower.

Neria looked out from behind her hands, and saw the girl's body. Fresh sobs wracked through her body. What kind of idiot was she, thinking that a royal decree would change anything for the elves! If anything, it had just made the humans feel threatened, and resentful. It would never change. Neria hated herself at that moment, felt like the flat-ear the Dalish mage had accused her of being, of a traitor to her race. How could she associate with monsters like the ones who had done this? Humans did this sort of thing often, she knew that thanks to Shianni, but still, she considered them friends? Lovers?

Neria heard Anders's soft footsteps behind her, and she wiped at her face furiously.

"Neria?" he asked, putting a hand on her shoulder. Neria heard his sharp intake of breath when he saw what was in front of her, and she heard him retreating quickly. Neria looked up to see him vomiting into the bushes. The sight of it comforted her, strangely. It reminded her that all humans were not capable of atrocities like this, that they were like any other people, with saints and monsters.

Neria stood up shakily, her face streaked with tears and snot. She looked up to see Nathaniel holding a sword, turning it in his hand.

"Humans didn't do this." Said Nathaniel.

"What?" asked Neria. "Of course they did! Look at all the weapons!" Human-sized weapons were scattered around the clearing.

"Exactly." Said Nathaniel. "Why would anyone throw down their perfectly useful weapons? Look at this sword. It's practically new."

Neria looked around, saw that he was right.

"Who was it, then?" asked Neria.

"Darkspawn." Said Nathaniel. "Look at this footprint. It is clearly that of a Hurlock."

"What?" asked Neria. She stared down at where he was pointing, and sure enough, the distinctive longer third toe stared back at her. "So darkspawn set this up, to set off that mage? Why? Are they even capable of thought like this?"

"Well, we did meet one who talked." Said Anders, wiping at his mouth. "If they can talk, they can reason."

"If they can reason, they can set up things like this." Said Oghren. "Now, we gotta find that mage. If I saw a scene like this, with my family…"

Neria was reminded uncomfortably that the man had indeed seen things comparable to the scene behind them, happen to his family. It had sent Ogre into a three-day rampage, which, while helpful at the time, was not really what she hoped for in regards to a powerful, renegade mage.

Neria pushed them past exhaustion, tracking the woman through the woods. She seemed to be circling the area, returning to the camp every so often.

Finally, Neria was about to call off their search for the day when she heard a loud, mocking laugh.

"So the lapdog hunts for her human masters, too." Said the woman, leaning idly against a tree. "When I first saw you, I thought maybe the clan had come around, that they were ready to help me with vengeance, but then I saw your plain face and your filthy companions, and I knew. Just another flat-ear, happy to lick the boots of the shemlen."

Neria heard Anders take a step forward, and she put a hand against his chest.

"You don't know what you're doing here." Called Neria in a calm voice. "Humans didn't kill your clan."

"What?" shrieked the mage. "Of course they did! I watched you look over the camp. I saw you cry over the body of my cousin! Is your memory really so short?"

"It was the darkspawn who did it." Said Neria.

"Human weapons were scattered all over the clearing!" shouted the mage, and shot a bolt of lightning toward Neria. It hit her, square in the chest, and she staggered back, breathing heavily.

Neria felt anger surge through her, and she held out her hands. Cold blasted from them, toward the mage. The trees around the woman froze, but she dodged out of the way, ducking under the icy branches.

"Why would they just leave their weapons? The darkspawn are changing. A month ago, I met one that talked!" shouted Neria furiously as she continued calling forth lightning and frost.

"Liar!" screamed the other mage. She shouted something guttural and staccato. The trees around Neria began to groan, bending toward her.

Neria looked up, briefly surprised, and then let loose the leash on her anger and grief over the Dalish camp. Power flowed through her, and around her, the trees went up in flames. Neria heard Anders swear next to her, and saw a shimmering shield wrap around the both of them, just in time to prevent a nasty flurry of hail from the Dalish mage. Neria threw her head back and howled, electricity flying from her fingertips, the escaped hair from her braid standing on end.

The other mage jerked as the lightning hit her, then somehow managed to shield herself. Neria felt someone grasp her shoulders and shake her. She snarled, and a burst of energy flew from her, knocking him off his feet.

"Stop! Neria!" shouted Anders. Neria shook her head, and looked down at Anders, whose face held a mixture of awe and anger. Neria let the magic dissipate, and held out a hand to help him up.

"Nathan ran after the mage, with Ogre hot on their heels." Said Anders. "Judging from the distinct lack of her weird yodeling, I'd say they caught her."

Neria grinned. "She does have some strange magic."

"Hm. Same could be said about you." Said Anders, lifting an eyebrow at her. "You are what they warn Templars about. Maker, what a sight! You looked like some sort of vengeful goddess out there, your hair whipping all over the place, fire shooting up around you, lighting crackling from your fingertips." Anders grinned at the memory.

Neria gave him a strange look.

"Uh. Did I say that out loud? Oh, look! Here they come now!" said Anders lightly, avoiding her eyes.

Nathaniel had a hand-shaped burn on his arm, and a fierce expression on his face. He dragged the mage along, ignoring her limp. The sock was back in its familiar position.

Neria marched forward and grabbed the woman. She ripped the gag out of the woman's mouth.

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't execute you right here." Said Neria.

"I have to save my sister." Said the mage, her blue eyes shifting between accusing and begging. "I don't care what you do with me, but if the darkspawn have her, I don't have much time. She's the only one I have left."

Oghren shook his head despairingly. Anders and Nathaniel did not know Neria well enough to predict her behavior, but Oghren did, and he knew as soon as the crazy bitch mentioned her sodding sister, that Neria would bring her along. He waited, watching as Neria pretended to consider.

Neria looked at the woman. She was obviously extremely powerful, and Neria felt her old thirst for knowledge awaken. This woman knew primal magic Neria had never even heard of, and for that alone, Neria would have considered keeping her alive. Aside from that, Neria admired the woman's bravery.

"Well, what should I call you, then?" asked Neria, holding out her hand. The mage looked down at the proffered hand as if it were holding a bag of dung.

"Velanna." Said the blonde mage, and then gingerly extended her hand. Neria took it firmly and shook.

"Wait, what just happened here?" asked Anders. "Wasn't this person just trying to KILL US?"

"Yes, but she's not going to do that anymore." Said Neria calmly. "Because if she does, she will die."

Nathaniel shuddered at the sinister tone in Neria's voice. After witnessing her in battle earlier, he was certainly glad that he had not tried to assassinate her as he had planned.

"Oh? So, now, to join the Grey Wardens, you just need to attempt to kill the commander, and fail. Great. So we're not only recruiting psychopaths, but ones who are incompetent, as well." Muttered Anders.

"You seem to forget that I found _you _surrounded by fresh Templar corpses." Said Neria mildly.

Anders saw Velanna look at him speculatively. "It's Nathaniel who's the other psychopath, in case you're wondering." He said.

Velanna showed them the entrance to an old mine, from which she had seen darkspawn emerging. Nathaniel took the lead, scouting ahead. He didn't return for an hour, and Neria began to get worried. Another hour passed, and she got to her feet.

"I'm going in after him." Said Neria.

Anders sighed. Oghren simply nodded. Velanna followed them, cautiously. Neria walked forward into the damp, chilly tunnel, and then everything went black.

Cold cobblestone greeted her when she awakened. She rubbed her arms, then pulled away, surprised. Someone had stripped her of her robe, and in its place was a simple homespun dress. It was obviously made for a smaller woman, and was so tight it prevented her from taking deep breaths. Neria heard someone moving next to her, and saw Anders getting to his feet.

"Where are we?" she asked.

"Looks like a dungeon." Said Anders. He looked at her, surprised. "Did you change clothes?"

"Did you?" asked Neria. Anders looked down at himself and his eyes widened.

"Someone changed them for us." Said Neria. "Strange. When I was locked in Fort Drakon, they just stripped me of my robe and threw me into my cell wearing nothing but my smallclothes.

Anders nodded. "That is usual procedure. Why would someone go through the trouble of dressing us?"

"Maybe the darkspawn are having a fashion show." Said Neria, then began to snicker.

Anders looked at her strangely. "Why would you say that?"

"Well, have you seen their emissaries? They put even the most fanciful of apostates to shame." Said Neria.

Anders laughed, and clapped a hand across his chest. "My lady, I am most offended! No, seriously, why do you think darkspawn did this?"

"Don't you feel it?" asked Neria.

Anders stood, his face screwed up in concentration. "Hmm. Nope."

Neria heard shouting, and she held a finger up to her mouth to silence Anders.

"If you had just let me pick that lock, we would be out of the cell by now. Now you've melted it, and it's completely useless!"

"Just give me a few more minutes, Shem. I can't believe I actually fell for this! How humiliating, to be captured by a bunch of dim-witted humans."

"You think humans did this? Pah!"

Neria looked over at Anders, who was listening intently.

"Want to show her up and blast our way out of this cage?" asked Anders.

"You would be the expert on such matters." Said Neria. "Blast away."

Anders grinned crookedly, and stood in front of her. "Behold, my manly manipulation of the elements!" Neria felt a wave of cold air wash over her.

"Tricky bastards!" said Anders admiringly. "Neria, would you mind countering the anti-magic field they have surrounding the bars?"

Neria nodded, pushing energy toward the door. Anti-magic wards were difficult to defeat. They required just enough magic to overtax them, but not so much that they self-destructed and took out the mage trying to remove them. Neria began to sweat at the effort of holding a steady level of energy. Neria preferred to work in short, intense bursts.

"Just a little longer." Said Anders. "Yes! That's it, Neria, keep going!"

The lock shattered, and the door swung open.

"From the way Sparkles here was groanin', I woulda thought the two of you were ruttin'." Said Oghren, turning the corner. Snuggles stood next to him, his tail wagging furiously.

"How did you get out?" asked Anders, frowning down at the man.

"My wife was a Paragon from the Smith Caste. I didn't get through that marriage without learnin' a thing or two about metal." Said Oghren mysteriously. "Now where are the other two nug-humpers?"

A loud explosion shook the area. Neria pitched forward into Oghren, and Anders fell on top of them. Snuggles jumped over to them, barking happily and licking their faces.

"What in the Ancestors' nutsacks was that?" asked Oghren.

Neria wiggled out from beneath Anders, who somehow still managed to smell amazing, though Neria thought that might just be in contrast to Oghren, who smelled like the arse-end of a donkey.

"Anti-magic ward, I would guess." Said Neria. Anders nodded.

They ran down the hallway, and found Nathaniel, looking dazed with an unconscious mage lying next to him. The door was barely on its hinges, and was warped out of shape.

"Maker's Breath, is she dead?" asked Neria, looking down at Velanna.

Anders, who was already crouching next to Velanna, shook his head.

"She's been depleted of magical energy and knocked out from the blast, but otherwise, she should be fine." Said Anders. He tapped Velanna's head, and was rewarded with a punishing left hook to the jaw.

"Fuck!" swore Anders, backing away from her. "See if I help you again!"

Velanna shook her head, trying to clear it. She looked at Anders, who was rubbing his jaw, and then at Nathaniel, who looked bemused.

Neria held out a hand to help her up. "It must be strange, waking up surrounded by human men. I don't blame you for punching him."

"What?!" complained Anders.

"Just how would you react if you woke up with Templars crowded around you?" asked Neria.

"Point." Said Anders.

They crept forward through the empty hallways. Neria saw a flash of blonde hair, and stopped the group, pointing. Velanna cried out happily and sprinted forward.

Neria jogged after her, watching as Velanna hugged an elf woman who resembled her greatly. Neria felt the corruption in the woman, and was surprised to hear her talk normally. Usually those who were as far gone as she was were nothing more than mindless husks.

"Seranni, I thought you were dead!" said Velanna.

"I don't have long. I don't want Him to know I'm gone. Here, take this key. It will unlock the chests with your belongings." Said Seranni.

"What? You're coming with us!" said Velanna. "I've come to rescue you."

"No, Velanna. My place is here." Said Seranni, and then she was simply gone. Velanna looked around, her face confused.

"Where did she go?"

Neria didn't feel Seranni's presence anymore, and she frowned. How the woman had simply melted away was a mystery. She didn't have time to puzzle it over, though, because the loud howl of a hurlock interrupted them.

"Nathaniel, Oghren, and Velanna, get behind me! Anders, I need shields!" shouted Neria. With no weapons, they were at a significant disadvantage against the group of darkspawn advancing on them. Neria needed to have the freedom to truly unleash her magic, and she couldn't do that without keeping the others behind her.

Anders took his place next to her and began chanting. Without a staff, magic was harder to channel, and the rhythmic chant took on the role of the staff, helping him to focus. Neria heard Velanna whispering along with Anders, though her magic was depleted.

Neria brought down the group of darkspawn, and then sat heavily down, panting. Oghren patted her on the back.

"That was amazing, Commander!" he said excitedly. "Maybe magic isn't such a pansy option, after all."

Velanna tapped her foot impatiently. "Can we get a move on? I need to find my sister."

Neria nodded, gasping for breath, and stood, shakily. Anders glared at Velanna. "She just took down ten darkspawn on her own while you hung in the back. I think she deserves a break."

"No, Anders, she's right." Said Neria. "Let's go."

The found their gear in the chest Seranni had described. Neria could feel a strange, powerful presence nearby. She saw Anders and Oghren stop and stare in the direction it was coming from.

"You feel that?" asked Neria. "That's the Taint. It allows you to sense darkspawn. Whatever is behind that door is extremely powerful, so be ready."

"You can sense darkspawn?" asked Velanna interestedly.

"That's what Grey Wardens do." Said Neria impatiently. She watched Oghren finish strapping himself into his armor, and was glad for the convenience of her robe.

Neria waited until Anders had them shielded, and then pushed open the door. The strangest darkspawn she had ever seen stood on a balcony over them. Seranni and another woman stood at his side. The other woman was dwarven, and wore heavy armor.

Neria shouted up at the darkspawn. "Hey! Let Velanna's sister go, you ugly beast!"

The darkspawn let out a tinkling laugh. "My, my. I had not foreseen your escape, but I suppose fate works in strange ways. Seranni is free to go, if she wishes. Do you wish to go, Seranni?" The darkspawn's odd, melted-looking face showed its amusement as Seranni shook her head.

"You've done something to her! Give her back!" screamed Velanna, and roots shot up from the floor around the darkspawn.

"Tsk, tsk." Said the darkspawn. "There is no need for fighting. I am the Architect, Grey Wardens. I am…different from others of my kind."

Neria looked around the room, and saw a body, its skin a ghastly grey. Next to it was some sort of large flask, with something that looked like a bellows next to it. The flask held at least a gallon of dark red, viscous liquid. Neria saw a shield lying discarded in the corner, the griffon heraldry facing outwards, and realized what the liquid was, and whom the body had once been. This darkspawn was one of those responsible for the attack on Vigil's Keep, and had dragged off the Wardens for whatever dark experiments it now performed.

Neria whipped around, flame blasting from the end of her staff. The Architect patted out the flames on his robes and then took a step back into the shadows. Neria saw, now, that the shadows behind him were the opening to a tunnel.

"After him!" she shouted, and watched Nathaniel sprint up the stairs, taking them three at a time. She heard the Architect's bell-like laugh, and watched as the tunnel collapsed behind him.

Velanna ran up the stairs behind Nathaniel. She pounded her fists against the rocks, howling for her sister.

Neria followed them. She was about to send energy toward the rocks when Oghren stopped her.

"It won't be any use. Tunnel is collapsed at least thirty feet in." said Oghren.

Neria looked at him.

"Stone sense. I haven't been on the surface that long." He said, and cackled.

Neria turned to Velanna, who was unleashing spell after spell on the rock.

"Stop that!" said Oghren sharply. "You want to collapse the whole damned place around us?"

"My sister is behind this rock!" said Velanna desperately.

"Your sister went with them willingly." Said Anders. "Maybe she doesn't want to be saved. I never heard of darkspawn groupies before, but…"

"Anders." Said Neria warningly. "Velanna, you're coming with us. You have two options: either face whatever punishment the captain of the guard decrees, or become a Grey Warden."

"A Grey Warden? So, I'd be able to sense these creatures?" asked Velanna.

"In time, yes." Said Neria. "You'd also need to put aside your search for your sister, at least for the time being."

Velanna's face hardened at that.

"Or, you can rot in a jail cell and then be hanged, your choice." Said Anders. "As someone who faced that choice a month ago, I'd suggest the Grey Wardens. They give your own room, and everything."

They returned to the Keep a few days later. Velanna was under heavy guard, with two people watching her at all times. She made no further escape attempts, instead keeping up a sullen silence, despite Nathaniel's attempts to engage her in conversation. Neria was intrigued by Nathaniel's persistence. He had certainly never been as talkative with anyone else in the group. Neria suspected he was the sort of nasty person who enjoyed heckling irritable people, which was ironic, considering how irritable he normally was. Since she gave him the bow, Nathaniel's demeanor toward her had improved so that he no longer overtly disdained her, but she wouldn't call him friendly, exactly. Not that she would know if he was, indeed, being friendly, due to his face's natural scowling expression.

Neria took a long bath upon her return, scrubbing off the film of sweat and dirt coating her skin. Velanna had survived the Joining, much to Oghren's disappointment, who had two sovereigns riding on the deal. The Merchants' Guild in Amaranthine was very happy with the news that those responsible for the raids were dead (so far as they knew), and rewarded Neria with an eye-boggling sum of gold, which Mistress Woolsley had promptly snapped up. It was probably for the best. When given control of money, Neria tended to spend it all quickly on frivolous things like candy and candy for orphans. Morrigan had often accused her of being a sucker, and after one notable instance in which Neria had given their food money for the week to a couple of 'war veterans' in Denerim, had taken over money-handling duties. Neria had gladly given those duties up, though Alistair nearly had a coronary when she told him about it. He was no better with money than she was, giving all the money he had saved to his worthless sister. Neria wondered if Alistair had finally wised up to the way of the world, and then grinned, thinking of her newest recruit. Alistair wouldn't be terribly pleased about Neria recruiting another apostate, this one openly homicidal.

Neria combed out her hair, noting with surprise that it now extended past her shoulders. Growing up, she had kept it cropped chin-length, due to her unfortunate habit of getting it caught in spells she was working. Leiliana had begged her to grow it out, showing her how to braid it and care for it properly. Leiliana's own hair was now nearly to her waist, straight and gleaming copper.. Neria envied it, sighing at the drab color of her own hair.

Anders knocked at the door, and then opened it.

"Oy! You done with the tub yet? I'm a grimy mess." He said. He saw her standing there with nothing but a towel wrapped around her.

"Hoping to catch me naked, Anders?" asked Neria teasingly.

"I was, actually." Said Anders boldly, grinning at her.

Neria felt a blush creep up her neck. He wasn't supposed to answer her! Alistair had always blushed and fumbled when she said outrageous things, and she knew better than to engage Zev in such talk.

"Oh-ho! Who shouldn't play with fire, now?" asked Anders. "I'm going to take a bath, now. You can stay, if you like." He began pulling his robe off over his head, and Neria caught a glimpse of his smooth, muscled back before she turned away.

Neria felt as if she would combust, and given her talent for primal magic, the possibility of bursting into flames was very real. She turned sharply and fled from the room, grabbing a robe off the hook on the door. Anders's cackle echoed after her down the hallway.


	8. Chapter 8

Neria escaped down the stairs, trying to block out the images in her mind of Anders with his hair down, his body slick and wet. She chided herself. She was not attracted to male mages, remember? She tried to bring up the memory of her first kiss with Burk Amell, fellow nerd and entrophy mage, whose mouth had somehow managed to taste like ash while being disgustingly slobber-filled. Burk's snub-nosed, buck-toothed face kept changing into Anders's handsome one. Somehow, she knew Anders's mouth would taste good. Judging by his easy flirtation, he was probably good at kissing, too.

Maker! Why was she even thinking of him that way? Male mages were usually unattractive to her. Mostly, it was their paleness and sickly, exercise-deprived bodies. But Anders was not a typical mage. He was tan, and more muscular than any mage had a right to be.

Neria smacked herself in the forehead. Hadn't she learned her lesson last time she dallied with a fellow warden? That had ended with a blood-magic sex ritual and a broken heart.

Neria saw the door to the Keep fly open, and a short, compact body come marching in, two guards scrambling behind.

"Ma'am, you don't have an invitation." Said a guard nervously. Neria saw his swollen lip, and smirked.

"I don't need a sodding invitation! Where is he?" shouted the dwarven woman.

Neria saw Oghren's head peek out from behind an armor stand. Velanna, who was perusing one of the bookshelves, pointed toward him.

Neria heard the squall of an infant, and realized why the guards hadn't simply seized the woman and dragged her away. The woman had a baby strapped in a sling across her back.

"Felsi! What are you doing here?" asked Oghren casually, as if he wasn't cowering behind a set of chainmail.

Neria made her way down the stairs, in hopes of easier eavesdropping.

"Of all the stupid things you've done in your life, Oghren, this is the dumbest!" shouted Felsi, her face purple with fury. "You ran off and joined the Grey Wardens! How could you do this to me. To Neria!"

Neria cocked her head, then remembered the baby's name.

"You said it would be hot." Said Oghren.

"We were role-playing." Spat Felsi. Neria saw Velanna's nose wrinkle, and she smiled. It seemed eavesdropping was an honored tradition among all mages, across magical training and tradition. Indeed, the worst gossips she knew were all mages. Even Morrigan, who had affected an air of studied indifference, had known everything about everyone else's personal lives.

"You had a good thing going with the army! You were respected." Said Felsi pleadingly.

"Aye, and a sodding boring job that was, too! I'm not cut out to order other men to do my killin' for me. You know that." Said Oghren. "There's only one thing I'm good at, Fels, and that's killin'."

"That isn't true." Said Felsi stubbornly. "Come back to us, Oghren. We miss you."

Oghren frowned. "I can't leave the Grey Wardens. It's for life."

Felsi scowled. "Well, I can see you've made your choice, and it isn't us. Goodbye, Oghren."

Neria watched Oghren's shoulders slump as he watched Felsi leave. He made no move to go after her. Luckily for him, Neria was not quite so lump-headed. She followed Felsi out the door.

"Felsi! Wait up!" called Neria. Felsi turned, then frowned when she saw who it was.

"I suppose you put him up to this? I can't begrudge you that, I guess. You're the reason he even left Orzammar." Said Felsi.

"I promise I didn't. He just showed up one day. I tried to talk him out of it, but you know how stubborn he is. If I had refused, he probably would have disappeared." Said Neria.

Felsi nodded.

Neria saw large eyes peeking over Felsi's shoulder. The baby had calmed, and watched Neria with wide eyes.

"Aren't you just the cutest thing?" asked Neria, holding out a finger for the baby to grasp. She gasped at her strong grip.

"She's strong." Said Neria.

"She gets that from her father." Said Felsi fondly. "Do you want to hold her?"

"May I?" asked Neria wonderingly. She had never held a baby before. Most people didn't want mages touching their children, for fear of the magic rubbing off on them.

"Of course you can! She's named after you, after all." Said Felsi kindly. She deftly pulled the sling off and handed the squirming baby to Neria.

"She's only seven months old, and already standing." Said Felsi proudly.

"Ooo." Said Neria stupidly. She hadn't a clue what was normal for babies. Baby Neria reached up for adult Neria's hair, which was falling into her face. She gave it a sharp tug, and Neria winced.

"Neria! No pulling hair." Scolded Felsi, prying the baby's fingers from Neria's hair. Neria heard Felsi gasp, and looked up to see Snuggles charging toward them.

"Good doggie, gooood doggie." Said Felsi nervously, putting herself between the dog and her child.

"Oh, you don't have to be afraid. That's Snuggles." Said Neria.

"Snuggles." Said Felsi apprehensively, looking at the Mabari's massive jaws, which could easily bite her child in half.

Snuggles pranced up to Neria, dancing around her. He noticed the bundle in her arms and sniffed the air curiously. Neria held the baby out to him. Snuggles snuffled the baby's belly, and baby Neria shrieked in laughter. Felsi smiled, her opinion on the dog raised by her daughter's obvious delight. Snuggles gave her a slobbery lick, and then settled at Neria's feet, giving her an expectant look.

"Fine, but if she pulls your ears off, don't come crying to me." Said Neria. She set the baby next to the dog. Baby Neria immediately scooted forward, grabbing at Snuggles's flank. Snuggles looked at her indulgently, then gave her another lick. The look on the wardog's face was clear. This tiny person was his, as surely as adult Neria was his. Neria had never heard of Mabari bonding to more than one person, but she didn't know much about dogs in general, so perhaps it was not unusual.

"Look, I know Oghren can be an idiot sometimes. Well, a lot of the time. But give him some time to come around, okay? I'll give you some money for a place in Amaranthine, and when he's realized what an utter toad he's been, I'll send him along." Said Neria.

Felsi looked at her, and sighed in relief. "I was hoping not to have to walk back to Denerim. Thank you, Neria."

Neria reached into the pouch on her belt and handed a fistful of gold to the surprised woman.

"Oh! This is far too much." Said Felsi. She plucked two sovereigns from the pile, and handed the rest back. "Oghren said you were generous, but I had no idea!"

"Now, come back in, please. I'd like to hear all about Neria Junior, and I'm sure you could use a hot meal and a respite from the baby." Said Neria.

Felsi looked at the Keep door longingly.

"Don't worry, I'm sure Oghren has retreated to the winecellar." Said Neria.

While Felsi took a well-deserved nap, Neria walked around with baby Neria, or Ria, as Felsi called her.

"We're nursemaids, now?" scoffed Velanna, though Neria caught her looking longingly at the baby.

"For now, yes." Said Neria good-naturedly. "Can you hold her for a minute? I need to go get something."

"What? No." said Velanna, but Neria had already deposited the baby into her arms. Ria reached up and touched the elf's tattoo, and Velanna smiled before she could stop herself. She still hated all shemlen, but this baby was not a shem, right? It was not an elf, either, but it was still cute.

When Neria returned with a stuffed golem toy (a gift, sent to her by Shale.), she saw an amazing sight. Velanna, stone-cold bitch of the Wilds, smiling at Ria and allowing her to chew on her finger.

Neria held out the toy and Ria squealed happily, waving the toy around.

"Why, Velanna, you seem to like Ria." Said Neria.

Velanna looked up, her eyes guarded. "So? I am a protector of innocents, and this child is an innocent." Said Velanna.

"Of course." Said Neria, hiding her grin.

Anders came bounding down the stairs, his hair wet against his neck. He came over to them, and gaped down at Ria.

"Is she…yours?" asked Anders.

Velanna rolled her eyes. "Yes. In the space of the time it took us to walk back to the Keep, I got pregnant, gestated an infant to full term, and then had her. "

"She certainly grew quickly." Said Anders casually. He noted the bright-red tufts of hair sticking up from the baby's head, and his eyes widened.

"Don't tell me the dwarf procreated." He said.

"He did." Said Neria. "This is Neria, his daughter."

"Wow. He named her after you?" asked Anders.

"Yes." Said Neria defensively.

"Oh, I didn't mean anything by it! I just-I just didn't know he thought so highly of you." Said Anders.

"Does your foot taste good? Because you just keep shoving it further into your mouth." Said Neria.

"I have had enough of your chatter." Announced Velanna. "Take this." She said, and handed Ria back to Neria. Velanna flounced away. Anders glared after he.

"What crawled up her arse and died?" asked Anders.

"She probably doesn't like that we saw her being nice." Said Neria. "I had a friend who acted a lot like Velanna."

"Arse?" asked Ria.

"Shit, Anders, look what you did!" said Neria.

"Arse? Shit?" asked Ria. "Shit! Shit!"

Felsi took the opportunity to come into the room.

"Arse!" cried Ria, holding out her arms for her mother.

Felsi smiled. "Your first word is 'arse.' You really are your father's daughter, aren't you?" she asked.

"Shit." Said Ria happily.

"Two words in one day. You're so smart!" said Felsi, and wandered away to feed Ria.

"You'd think she'd be angrier about those first words." Said Anders.

"Well, she's kind of a strange lady. She did have a child with Oghren, which means she at some point had sex with him…"

"Ugh." Said Anders, a sickened expression on his face.

The next day, Neria announced they were travelling to Amaranthine, both to accompany Felsi and question a pair of brothers who claimed to have seen darkspawn emerging from a hole in the ground.

Oghren hung near the back of the group, watching Anders play with his daughter. Anders was very comfortable with Ria, and Neria wondered if he had siblings. A sobering thought occurred to her. Perhaps Anders had children of his own. She had never asked him much about his life outside the Circle. It was likely she was afraid to know.

By the time they reached Amaranthine, Oghren had managed to worm his way back into Felsi's good graces (and bed, judging by the disgusting leers they were directing at one another.) Neria allowed him to stay with Felsi while the rest of them looked for the brothers. Neria noticed the odd behavior of the other Wardens.. Nathaniel, Anders, and Velanna all seemed anxious. Velanna was no surprise. As a Dalish elf, she had probably not been in a city before, and certianly not one as large as Amaranthine. Nathaniel and Anders, however, were a mystery. Anders had calmed down considerably over the past month, trusting that his status as a Grey Warden would keep the Templars at bay.

Neria directed the group into a pub. It was hot outside, and a mug of ale was just what she needed.

"So, what's wrong with you two?" asked Neria.

"Well, Nate here seems to have a problem where he just can't take his eyes from the bum of our newest Warden. Other than that, his hair could use a good wash, and he'd look so much prettier if he just smiled once in a while." Said Anders.

Nathaniel glared at Anders. "Don't call me Nate." He said. Neria found it intriguing that he did not argue about having a look at Velanna's bum. She looked at Velanna who was sneering at both Anders and Nathaniel.

"You're avoiding the question, Anders. Why are you acting so strangely?" asked Neria.

Anders laughed, a little too loudly. "I don't have the faintest idea of what you're talking about."

"I want to know if we can try to find someone." Said Nathaniel. "It turns out that my old gardener is still at the Keep, and he told me my sister is still alive, in Amaranthine."

"That's exciting." Said Neria. "Of course we can try to find her. In fact, if you'd prefer to go alone, I'm sure Anders, Velanna, and I can find the brothers we are searching for."

Nathaniel's shoulders slumped in relief. "Thank you, Neria."

Nathaniel left to find the shop the gardener had spoken of. The other three headed toward the small houses on the edge of the city, where the brothers were said to live. Neria found them, and was surprised to find that one brother was human and the other, elven.

"Before you even ask, we have different fathers." Said the elf brother in a bored voice.

"I'm here to ask about what you found in the forest, actually." Said Neria. They told her about the rift, and about the fact that despite literally falling on top of the darkspawn, they had not been attacked. It was very odd, and Neria decided that after they were finished with their business in Amaranthine, they would head directly to the chasm.

Neria gave the brothers a sovereign for their information, which earned her a big smile from MIcah, the elf, and a leer from his older human brother. Neria heard Anders and Velanna arguing, and excused herself from the men.

"I just asked about some of your magic! No need to get so defensive!"

"Because elves have never had to be on the defensive with shemlen! We certainly haven't had our magic stolen and turned against us in the past." Sneered Velanna.

"Fine! Forget I asked." Said Anders angrily.

"Whoa, there, guys." Said Neria. "I don't know what this is about, and I don't really feel like playing mediator, so just settle down and act like adults. Velanna, you know quite a bit about herbalism, right?"

"Why, because I'm Dalish?" asked Velanna.

"No, because you have a fucking chemistry set in your bedroom." Said Neria. The brief respite from the cold ale was gone, and the hot day was wearing her patience thin. It would have been a simple thing to cool herself with a spell, but Templars seemed to be everywhere, and she didn't fancy an argument about using magic for 'frivolous' uses.

Velanna flushed. "Right. What is it that you want?"

"I'm going to trust you with some money, and I want you to buy whatever you need to make potions, poultices, and poisons. Don't bother trying to run off, because now that you're a warden, I'll be able to find you through the Taint." Said Neria, and held out a pouch of coins to Velanna.

Velanna brightened at the idea of so much money to spend on her favorite pasttime, brewing. She grabbed the pouch and then melted into the crowd.

"I wish I could do that." Sighed Neria.

"What? Act like a raving bitch all the time? I'm rather glad you seem incapable." Said Anders.

"Why, Anders, was there a compliment hidden in there somewhere? I do wish sometimes that I could reduce grown men to tears with the force of my icy personality, but mostly, I wish I could just disappear like Velanna. Nate can do it, too." Said Neria.

"Nate, is it?" asked Anders.

"Oh, excuse me. Nathaniel." Said Neria.

"You're awfully friendly with people who tried to kill you." Said Anders.

"It's a nasty habit I picked up. One of my best friends is an assassin who was hired to kill Alistair and I." said Neria.

Anders stared, then shook his head. "You are a very strange woman."

"You son of a bitch! I can't believe you have the nerve to show your face around here, after all this time!" said a female voice to Neria's right. An elven woman dressed in battered leather armor with two shining daggers strapped across her back marched up to them.

"Namaya." Said Anders. "Look, I would have contacted you sooner, but I got captured, and now I'm a Grey Warden…"

"Save it." Spat Namaya. She had an interesting face, narrow and angular, with a long scar running down one side of it. She was also ugly as original sin.

"I've had enough of your excuses, Anders! Next time you get caught, I'm letting you twist in the breeze. I ain't helping your sorry arse again."

"Did you find out about the-" Anders was cut off by Namaya.

"Yes. You were right about one thing, at least. The warehouse is here, in the city. You know that huge cedar tree near the city gates? It's the warehouse kitty-corner." Said Namaya. Namaya turned to Neria, her eyes flicking to Neria's ears, and then back to her face.

"I see his tastes haven't changed. Listen, honey, he'll try to sweet-talk you, tell you everything you want to hear-"

"That's generally the definition of sweet-talking, yeah." Muttered Anders.

"Wasn't talking to you." Said Namaya. She turned her attention back to Neria, her intense dark eyes on Neria's face. "Don't believe a word that comes out of his lying mouth, because when the going gets tough, Anders gets going. He'll throw you to the wolves to save himself."

Neria saw Anders's face twist, and she pushed herself between the two before a scuffle broke out. Judging by the muscles in Namaya's arms, and the fury in her eyes, she would put her money on Namaya.

"Thanks for the advice. Anders, we need to find Nathaniel." Said Neria. She turned, and Namaya was gone.

"I suppose I owe you an explanation." Started Anders.

"No, Anders, you don't." said Neria. "Your personal life is your business."

"You're not even curious?"

"Not in the slightest." Said Neria breezily, though she was intensely, rabidly curious. What had a man who looked like Anders seen in a woman like Namaya? Her personality wasn't sparkling, that was certain. Perhaps she was one of those women who was really plain, and made up for it by being a tiger in bed? Zevran had spoken fondly of such a woman.

"I can see the gears going up there." Said Anders, and he tapped the side of her head. "The warehouse she was talking about belongs to the Templars. I have reason to believe it is a storage facility for phylacteries. Specifically, my phylactery."

Neria looked up, surprised. "What? Do you think they might have mine, there? Let's go there right now!"

Anders laughed. "And here I thought I'd have to beg you to help me."

"Are you kidding me? I'd do anything to get a chance at destroying that noose around my neck." Said Neria excitedly.

"Should we collect the others?" asked Anders.

"I'm sure they won't have that many guards." Said Neria.

They walked up to the warehouse, which looked abandoned. Neria pushed open the door gingerly. It swung open easily, releasing a cloud of dust into the air. Neria coughed, and stepped into the room.

"Is it really this easy? Maybe they didn't want to draw attention to it." Said Anders.

"Hopefully." Said Neria. She saw a door on the far end of the room, and opened it. She caught a glimpse of plate armour, and immediately called up a shield.

"Well, well. I was beginning to think Anders Amell was too clever for our little trap." Said the Templar-Commander. She sneered over Anders's surname. "We're bringing you in, Anders, and this time, you won't get away."

Neria felt crushing disappointment fill her. She knew she should be afraid of the Templars, but instead, she was angry that she would not get to destroy her phylacter.

"You can't! I'm a Grey Warden, now." Said Anders.

"You are an apostate, and a murderer! I will not sit by while you roam free." Barked the commander.

Neria stepped forward. "He is a Grey Warden, conscripted under the permission of King Alistair. You have no authority over the Grey Wardens." She said, her eyes flashing dangerously.

"The Chantry's rule supercedes the Crown in this matter. Now step aside, Warden Commander, and permit us to take this man into custody."

Neria bristled. "I will not!"

"How long before Anders decides to flee his responsiblities as a Grey Warden? You must know that he is not trustworthy." Said the Commander, her voice taking on a silken tone.

Neria saw Anders look over at her, and the expression on his face nearly broke her heart. He obviously expected her to turn him over, and Neria knew then, that Anders had been betrayed many times before.

"Anders has proven himself to be an admirable Grey Warden, and I've entrusted him with my life on several occasions." Said Neria, smiling at Anders. Her expression turned icy when she turned back to the Templar-commander. "I will not turn him over to certain death today, or any day."

"Then you are a maleficar as well, going directly against the wishes of the Chantry." Said the templar-commander, a righteous gleam in her eye.

Neria struck before she finished speaking, lightning bouncing from the Commander, and arcing into the other two Templars. They charge at her, drawing their swords, and Neria was suddenly very grateful for the daily lessons with Nathaniel. She ducked, sending a burst of flame toward them. One of the Templars fell, clutching at his throat, and Neria turned to see Anders, a fierce look on his face. Neria took down the other Templar with a blast of cold, and she began to wonder why Templars struck such fear into the hearts of mages.

She didn't wonder long. The templar commander let out a long cry, and Neria suddenly felt as if she had been dashed against rocks lining the bottom of the Tower. Her magical energy was gone, and now she was just a small, weak elf armed only with a wooden stick against a trained warrior with a sword. Neria saw Anders's face, and knew the same thing had happened to him. His face took on that of a cornered animal, all bristling, useless, terrified fury. The Templar Commander grinned, and lifted her sword.

Neria felt the smallest wisp of magic, and summoned the first spell she had mastered, the grease spell. The floor under the Templar Commander was suddenly slick, and she slipped. Neria rushed forward, pushing the woman with all her might, and she pitched toward Anders, sword swinging. Neria jumped on the woman's back, which made her twist, and gave Anders enough time to dive out of the way. The sword bit into Neria's left arm, and she screeched, but held on, her right arm wrapped around the woman's neck.

"Neria! Duck!" shouted Anders, and Neria slid off the woman's back as Anders swung his staff. It connected with the back of the woman's skull with a sickening crunch, followed by a wet squelch. Neria watched the dead Templar-commander crumple to the floor.

"Rule number one in the Templar handbook. Always wear your helmet." Droned Neria.

She heard Anders's hysterical laughter, and she turned to see him leaning against his now-cracked staff, his eyes wild.

"Are you okay?" asked Neria.

Anders answered her with more laughter. He shook his head incredulously.

"You just stand there, your arm bleeding all over the place and ask me if I'm okay?" asked Anders.

Neria looked down at her arm, which was indeed bleeding everywhere. The rush of battle was wearing off, and her arm was sending angry bolts of pain up through her shoulder.

"Well, are you?" asked Neria.

Anders gaped at her. "You just jumped on the back of the most dangerous templar in Fereldan, armed with nothing but your pitiful fist, and you want to know how I'm doing? Fuck, Neria!" swore Anders.

"My fist isn't pitiful. It is an instrument of destruction." Said Neria ridiculously. She would have said anything to get the wild, hunted-animal look out of Anders's eyes.

Anders grinned crookedly. "I can't believe you did that. Why did you do that?"

"Well, I admit it probably wasn't the smartest idea to jump on her back, but she was swinging that sword at you, and my magic was gone, so-" started Neria.

"Not that." Said Anders sharply. "Why didn't you let them take me? Why risk yourself?"

Neria looked at him strangely, as if the answer was glaringly obvious, and to her, it was.

"Because you're my friend, Anders. Friends stick up for each other." Said Neria. "And even if you weren't, I'm not about to let some Templar bitch take one of my Wardens."

"Oh." Said Anders quietly. "I, uh. Wow."

"Speechless? Thank the Maker!" joked Neria. Anders took a step toward her, and then crushed her against his chest. Neria shrieked, pushing him away.

"My arm, my arm!" she wailed, dancing from foot to foot.

"Sorry!" said Anders. He bent, searching through the belt pouches of one of the dead Templars. He held up a blue vial triumphantly, and then drank the contents.

"Now, hold still." He said, and took her arm. He murmured a few words, and some of the pain receded. Neria watched the skin knit back together, and she grinned up at him. Anders smiled back, his hazel eyes warmer and greener than she had ever seen them. A shock of blond hair fell over his eyes, and she reached up absently to brush it away. Anders stared at her, his eyes searching her face, and Neria was sure he was about to do something utterly stupid, and entirely welcome. Her heart pounded in her throat. Anders bent toward her, and she closed her eyes, when she heard the sound of paws on stone, and turned in time to be toppled by Snuggles.

"Neria?!" shouted Oghren, running after the dog. He skidded to a stop, and looked at the bodies of the dead Templars. "I see you went and had fun without me." He grunted. "Your dog was actin' funny, like he was tryin' to tell me to follow him. So, I did."

"Thank you, Oghren." Said Neria from the floor, trying to shield her face from the dog's happy ministrations. "Templars decided to try to to steal Anders."

"Really?" asked Oghren dubiously. "Why would they want him?"

"Oh, har, har." Said Anders. "Now, what should we do with these bodies?"

"First, check them for valuables. Then, burn 'em." Said Oghren simply.

Anders looked at Oghren, then shook his head. "Sometimes, you people are really, really scary."


End file.
